


Not a teacher but I can teach you a thing or two

by Adishailan



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: ??? RK900, Aftermath of Violence, Attempt at Humor, Bisexual Gavin Reed, But He's Learning, Card Games, Cats, Denial of Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Gavin Reed Redemption, Gavin Reed-centric, Gavin has his work cut out for him, Gavin is a cat person, Gavin is guilt tripped into being Nine's social etiquette teacher, Humor, Idiots in Love, Kidnapping, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Nines is not good with boundaries, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), RK900 is socially inept, Right from the get go cause this is, Romance, Slow Burn, Soft Upgraded Connor | RK900, Soft!RK900, Sort of? - Freeform, Strangers to Friends, Swearing, Tags May Change, because I can't seem to write romance any other way, because there are loads of them already, but nice underneath, but only for the first chapter, injured gavin, not a partners fic, so does RK900, so much swearing, teacher Gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2019-08-22 20:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 55,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16604684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adishailan/pseuds/Adishailan
Summary: Gavin owed the walking hunk of plastic. He owed him. Ugh, Gavin hated owing people stuff. It gave him a horrible feeling in his stomach, like indigestion, except worse because it involved emotionsTM. This, coupled with the fact he was pumped up with drugs and suffering a concussion, was why he was about to make a terrible, terrible mistake.“‘Kay. Fine. Thanks or whatever. Lemme know if you ever need anythin' prick.”RK900’s LED went yellow at this, and this time Gavin was pretty sure he was doing the processing thing. It was still yellow even when he nodded in a serious way and said:“That would be useful.”





	1. Finding your teacher

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled: 'How to make friends and not alienate people.' 
> 
> So I've been working on this one pretty solidly for a month now and am quite happy with how it's going. Decided to publish it a bit earlier than planned as I realised that today is (sort of) RK900's birthday! I mean, this is the day in the game when he turns up if you play your cards horribly HORRIBLY wrong. 
> 
> So yeah. Happy birthday RK900! Here's some human trash for you to fall in love with

* * *

 

If you looked up the word ‘fucked’ in the dictionary, well, to be perfectly honest, you probably wouldn’t find anything. The people who make dictionaries probably don’t have the balls to put the word ‘fucked’ in.

If you _googled_ it though, that’d be another matter. Urban Dictionary would delight in having a picture of Gavin Reed’s gorgeous mug plastered all over the page. Not under the ‘yay, you had sex’ definition but under the ‘you’re fucking doomed’ and the ‘you’re messed up with drugs, dehydration and concussions’ definition.

The drug in question? Well, Gavin was _pretty_ sure it was some kind of tranquilliser. What kind, he didn’t know. Mainly because he’d been **fucking tranquillised** and it was hard to even see straight right now. He was just pleased that he’d even figured out it was a tranquilliser. Although, to be fair, it was pretty easy to figure out.

Normal, non-tranquilised Gavin would never have been so calm to wake up handcuffed to a radiator. He even fucking smiled at the nut-job staring down at him, having not quite clued together the level of shit he was currently in. All Gavin had known, in that first dizzying moment of vague lucidity, was that someone was smiling at him and it would be rude not to smile back.

It took him all of ten seconds to realise that something was wrong. That, _hey_ , why was he in handcuffs? And, oh also, why was he bleeding a lot? Then the fact that he was still smiling for some godforsaken reason finally sunk in.

He opened his cracked, parched lips and, even in his relatively mellow and blitzed out state, managed to get a good number of swears out.

“Yooou phck a cunt cock suck- sucking mother fucker fucknugget.”

It wasn’t his best but it did the job and got his head roughly ploughed into the side of the radiator.

So yeah, here Gavin was, (not-so)freshly woken up once more but this time by a splitting a headache and a bad leg cramp. God knows how much time had passed with him chained up to a rusted old scrap of frustratingly unbreakable pluming, sporting a painful wrist, a bloodied up nose and what was most likely a concussion. All this, on top of a case of mild dehydration and the left over drugs churning through his system, made for quite an unhappy Gavin.

Ugh. His **_head_**. It felt like someone had cracked it open and slapped in a lump of cement where his brain should be. He needed coffee. Something full of sugar, maybe caramel syrup, or one of those weird over sugared Christmas mixes that Tina always brought in despite it being October. Blinking blearily, Gavin glanced around the bare, piss stained room he’d been locked up in. All there was to be seen was an old, rusted bed frame leaned up against the furthest wall, a dilapidated white door with splinters sticking out of it’s splinters, and a _lot_ of stains on the what-was-probably-once-white, threadbare carpet. _Yeah_ , chances were, he wasn’t going to get that cup of coffee any time soon.

 _God_. This was just his luck wasn’t it? What was worse was that Gavin had been uncharacteristically idiotic on this case and forgot to leave a note with Tina.

She was going to kill him. They had a system going and everything. When he couldn’t get her to be his back ups on arrests, he was supposed to leave a quick post it note with address, time and whether Gavin managed to blackmail someone into being his backup or not... Or at least a text saying telling her to look after his cats if he died.

But no. Gavin just _had_ to forget the one goddamn motherfucking time the perp got the drop on him and jabbed a damn needle in his neck. Did anyone know where he was? Would anyone even bother looking? Tina would try but hell if anyone else would spend more than five minutes on his case before gleefully giving him up for dead. He hoped Tina would rip them a new asshole but she’d probably be too nice for that. She’d just go off and look for Gavin herself, if he was missing too long. Good old Tina.

_Wonder if she’s started looking yet._

Gavin blearily blinked up at the cracked, damp-stained ceiling, shifting his head slightly and ignoring the odd grating feeling humming from the base of his throat. There was a window in the room that nutjob had locked him in. He stared at it for a few minutes before he realised his eyes were hurting and looked away. That meant it was day, right? If his eyes were hurting, that must be the case. He looked back, only briefly this time. Yeah. It was light, so it was day.

It had been early in the evening when he turned up at Johnny Rudd’s house, badge, cuffs and gun in hand, ready to arrest himself a red ice dealer. So that meant it had definitely been at least twelve hours since he got knocked out…

_I should’ve waited for Tina._

Gavin dully considered that depressing thought for a grand total of four seconds before deciding: _fuck_ that thought. It wasn’t going to tell him what to do! He wasn’t going to sit here and mope like a dog at the vets. Gavin was more of a cat person. He was gonna hiss and spit and claw any motherfucker who came at him with a needle like his life depended on it.

But first…

Gavin took in a deep breath and forced himself up onto his knees, hissing through his teeth as his chest flared with pain. It didn’t _feel_ like anything was broken but there was probably at least one bruised rib. He pushed past this, instead focusing on angling his body closer to the radiator, his hips pushing up against his bloodied hands. He ignored the strange way his left shoulder sagged forward and the jagged jolts of what felt like hot needles bursting out from his right arm. Just a bit closer, just a bit- there! Gavin grinned as he got his left hand into his pocket, only to scowl as he realised Nutjob Rudd had been smart enough to take his keys off him. All he had left were some cough sweets, a broken lighter and a lotta lint. He needed to wash his jeans better, he really did.

This was not the pressing issue right now though. No, the pressing issue right now was the fact that Gavin had nothing on him to break free, his gun was missing and-

* ** _Clink_** *

-Someone was unlocking the door.  

A swell of deep seated nausea surged through Gavin as he did his best to twist around and face the door, feet pulled tightly into his body, ready to lash out and kick like a kangaroo. Not like one of the cute kangaroos you find on calendars and cards and all that shit, but like one of those freaky buff ones Gavin saw pictures of online. The ones that look like gym rats gone wrong, on the testosterone and steroid high of a lifetime. Yeah, Gavin was gonna kick himself some serious ankle.

The door opened and a blurry man-shape stepped neatly forward.

Gavin squinted, as if it would make a difference to his messed up vision. He probably looked completely deranged to whoever was there, sweating and grunting and glaring at them with with a cross-eyed squint to match the battiest of old crones.

“Whoz the?” He asked, tripping over his swollen tongue. He stopped, swallowed down his broken words and tried again, slower this time. “Who a your?”

Nailed it.

“Detective Reed, I’ve found you,” announced the blur.

Gavin contemplated that for a few seconds. ‘ _Detective Reed_ ’? That sounded promising. He slowly unfolded himself from his lopsided attempt at a crouching tiger stance. The blur moved closer and turned into a man. A rather familiar man with grey eyes, a stupid, high collared white jacket and a blue LED.

“I know you!” Said Gavin, or, at least, that’s what he tried to say. It came out a bit more like: “Ayye noah ou!”

To be honest, Gavin really didn’t. Know him that is. He knew _of_ him but they hadn’t really spoken before. RK900, or whatever he called himself, was rather infamous at the precinct. He’d been there a grand total of two months and by god did everyone hate him. Well, ‘hate’ may be a bit of an exaggeration. But most people disliked him, or were annoyed at the very least. By what Gavin had heard, RK900 was aloof and haughty. He tried to tell people how to do their jobs and had a nasty little habit of jumping in on other people’s cases whenever the smallest, flimsiest link could be made to one of his investigations. And he always got away with it.

 _Always_.

Apparently even Connor wasn’t overly fond of the new tin can, generally avoiding his company, and the only other person that ‘bundle of sunshine’ disliked was Gavin himself. The bar was so low and RK900 had still managed to limbo under it.

Gavin, for once in his life, hadn’t really formed much of an opinion on the relatively new focus of the office gossip. For the last half year or so since all that android revolution shit, Gavin had been desperately trying to ignore every and any android he crossed paths with, in the hopes that it would all just go away like a bad dream… or at least in the hopes that Connor wouldn’t give him another concussion.

Gavin had taken one look at Connor 2.0 with his dead-grey eyes, broad hulking shoulders and dark frown, and decided that he liked his gorgeous head the way it was, thank you very much, and with no bloodied dents in it. Gavin had proceeded to ignore the first and only attempt at an introduction from the terminator, password lock all his files with outdated references and random numbers, and keep the hell away from both RK models as best he could. It worked well with the 900 android, who was often out on fieldwork, but didn’t always work out with Connor who was fucking _everywhere_ Gavin looked. One minute he’d be cozying up to the detectives, the next he’d chatting with the receptionists or laughing with the officers. He was like some sort of social butterfly, but robotic and goofy looking.

If Connor was the android equivalent of a social butterfly, RK900 was the equivalent of a social slug. Occasionally, Gavin saw him, lurking by his desk and glaring into space like the air had wronged him somehow, but most often it was just the slimy trail of devastation and the juicy gossip he caught onto.

Gavin’s tangent of thoughts on butterflies and slugs suddenly broke as his blurred eyes registered the movements of said android, walking closer to him.

“You are heavily sedated,” stated the robot slug, kneeling in front of Gavin now and grabbing his head with both hands. Without warning, he sharply tilted it back.

This time Gavin’s words came out much clearer:

“Ow! _Ow_! **_Fuck_** **_off_**!”

The android ignored him.

“You have a sprain in your neck, a broken collarbone and rib, a fractured wrist, a grade two concussion and a split lip.”

“Shut up and get me the hell outta here, asshole,” was Gavin’s eloquent response to all this, except again it was too garbled and slurred to make much sense.

RK900 seemed to make some kind of sense from it though as he shook his head and answered: “It is a bad idea to move you with these fractures and breaks. I have called an ambulance. It should be here within approximately twenty-three minutes.”

Gavin huffed out a sharp, bitter laugh and rattled the cuffs against the radiator, somehow managing to stare down the android from below as he ignored the wave of burning, grating heat searing out from his right wrist.

This earned Gavin one of the most unimpressed looks he’d ever received. He met it, glare for glare, utterly unrepentant even as his whole body throbbed with pain induced nausea.

“Fine. I will break the handcuffs. Do your best to hold still.”

Gavin _really_ didn’t like the guy’s tone but he still listened and braced himself. There was an ever so slight rise to RK900’s brow but otherwise his face was back to being as stoic as ever. Perhaps he had been surprised, not expecting Gavin to concede so quickly, having mostly likely heard of Gavin’s famously bad attitude and penchant for disobedience.

His fingers dipped down around the left cuff first (which Gavin appreciated considering how messed up his other wrist was). He then proceeded to pull it apart like it was made of plastic and not solid fucking steel.

“R’mind me not t’get on yer bad side,” Gavin slurred out, grinning toothily as RK900 gave him a puzzled frown in return. The grin fell off his face quicker than a rain of bricks when the android reached for his right hand. Gavin didn’t move though. He just gritted his teeth and thought hard about the whistling sound of air escaping through them as he heaved out several quick and pained breaths.

“I told you we should have waited, detective,” said RK900 in a stupidly condescending tone. Gavin glared up at him, then looked away. Pain did a good job at bringing his mind back to the here and now, waking both him and his attitude from the surly depths of his sub-consciousness.

“ _What_ ever plastic. How long’ve I been here?” He asked, shifting slightly and leaning more heavily against the radiator. Yep, he wasn’t moving any time soon.

“Twenty-two hours, thirty-six minutes and seventeen seconds,” RK900 informed him before bringing up a finger to Gavin’s split lip and lightly dabbing at the crusted blood there.

Gavin blinked at him, at the android still crouched before him, as he put the blood in his mouth.

“ _Whathfck_?”

“You have a large volume of Benzodiazepine in your system. It is interesting that you are still mostly coherent. Still, you need to concentrate on staying awake, Detective Reed.”

Gavin didn’t say anything to that, he was still processing the fact that the android was apparently half-vampire. 

“Don’ fuckin’ do that. S’not normal,” said Gavin, shaking his head and immediately regretting it.

When the black spots finally faded away from his vision, RK900 had taken a seat in front of him, LED yellow as he either processed something or started communicating with someone in his head. Fuck if Gavin knew which one. All he knew was: blue = good, yellow = thinking, and red = bad/get the fuck away.

“Sooo, less than twen’y-four hours, huh? Tina must’ve been, uh, desperate to call _you_ in,” Gavin sneered. RK900’s dead eyes turned away from the ceiling and back to Gavin, the LED pulsing yellow for only one more second before cycling back to blue.

“You are mistaken, detective,” RK900 informed him, in a voice that would’ve been just like Connor’s if it had just that little bit more emotion in it. What kind of emotion, Gavin didn’t know, just something to make it more whiny and annoying. “Officer Chen did not request for my help.”

Gavin swallowed dryly and mulled this over. “… So why’re you here?”

“I noticed that yesterday you had compiled the evidence for your red ice investigation, ready to make an arrest, which you did not do. You are comparably faster than many of the other detectives so I decided to look into your location and ascertain what happened. I checked your apartment but you had not returned last night. I proceeded to explain this to Captain Fowler but he was reluctant to declare you missing. I had finished my other cases and nothing else to do so I decided to further investigate myself.”

Gavin’s wide-eyed gaze, which had only been growing wider and wider with every word RK900 spoke, suddenly shuttered and froze.

So he only decided to help Gavin because he was bored...

_What a prick._

Still, Gavin didn’t leave much in the ways of clues about his whereabouts, what with his hushed up methods and mishmash of odd passwords. It was surprising how fast RK900 had found him. Perhaps his other coworkers would’ve taken much longer… if they even bothered to look at all. And by the time he was found (again if Tina managed to do the job or forced someone to help her), that nutjob might’ve come back and actually got up the courage to do him in.

Gavin owed the walking hunk of plastic. He **owed** him. Ugh, Gavin hated owing people stuff. It gave him a horrible feeling in his stomach, like indigestion, except worse because it involved **emotionsTM**. This, coupled with the fact he was pumped up with drugs and suffering a concussion, was why he was about to make a terrible, _terrible_ mistake.

“‘Kay. Fine. Thanks or whatever. Lemme know if you ever need anythin’ prick.”

RK900’s LED went yellow at this, and this time Gavin was pretty sure he was doing the processing thing. It was still yellow even when he nodded in a serious way and said:

“That would be useful.”

Luckily (or perhaps unluckily) Gavin never had the chance to ask what the hell he meant by that, as, in that very moment, the door to the room burst open to allow in a crew of puffy-jacketed ambulance workers.

Perhaps if they had been a little less loud, and a little less boisterous about moving Gavin and sending his vision into showers of concussion induced stars, he would have noticed the way RK900 stared at him, standing up now, hands steady and still by his sides, considering mercury eyes intense and unblinking.

But he didn’t, and so he spent the next couple of days in laid up in hospital, complaining about anything and everything from the lack of hot nurses to the crappy jello cubes, completely unaware of the grey-eyed, stony-faced storm heading his way.


	2. Convincing your teacher

* * *

 

Gavin stared, eyes bulging and mouth slack. RK900’s stared back as expressive as a wall, perhaps even less so.

There was a temptation to slam the door in the thing’s face because Gavin was tired and he really didn’t want to deal with whatever shit brought _RK900_ round to his flat.

But on the other hand, Gavin was tired. His right arm was weighed down with a heavy plaster cast and his left arm was wrapped up in a sling to keep his collarbone steady. It had been a struggle to even _open_ the door with just the tips of his right hand fingers. On top of this, his neck was aching like a bitch from staring up at RK-beanstalk and his chest was nagging him with dull stabs of pain for standing up too long.

Gavin really didn’t want to wrestle a door shut on an asshole of an android who could probably break his spine with his pinkie-finger. So he just groaned and moved away, letting RK900 waltz into his apartment like it was fucking his. Hopefully, the sooner they talked the sooner RK900 would leave and Gavin could get back to watching 'The CatWalk'.

Honestly, if it were anyone else (except perhaps Tina), Gavin would never have let them in. Both he and the apartment looked a mess. With both arms out of commission, Gavin hadn’t shaved in days. He was well on his way to a hermit beard, which wasn’t a good look on anyone. Hank could just about pull it off (or perhaps it was simply that everyone was too used to the scraggly scruff to care.)  Gavin knew he didn’t suit that style of beard though. Hell, he didn’t suit anything more than stubble.

To add to his check list of ‘how to look like Hank Anderson gone wrong’, he hadn’t washed in a couple of days, smelt kinda funky and looked like a hobo. A _shirtless_ hobo, since he’d decided that the effort of pulling one over his sling had been too much for his lazy ass. He was just glad he’d bothered to put pyjama pants on because while he didn’t really care what the android thought of his appearance, it still would’ve been a step too far talking to him in his boxers.

“The hell d’ _you_ want?” Gavin asked, stepping over the overflow of his kitchen bin and taking a seat on one of the barstools by the counter. He had a cup of coffee there that he wasn’t going to let go cold, not after all the faff of making the damn thing. He waved off Kit, his old, half-blind, white and brown mottled moggy, who had jumped up to sniff curiously at the cup. Kit just sneezed disdainfully and tried to sniff it one more time before lopsidedly jumping off the counter to weave itself through RK900’s legs, getting fur all over his smart black trousers.

Gavin smirked.

RK900 didn’t immediately answer him, instead standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the cat and then glancing around the combined kitchen-living room.

“You did not request assistance to facilitate your recovery,” he stated in a dry tone.  

It wasn’t an answer to his question so Gavin didn’t say anything, simply taking a large, wincing gulp of the tepid coffee water.

RK900 frowned softly but seemed to accept that Gavin didn’t want to talk about this.

“I came to continue our discussion from three days ago,” he paused, eyes searching Gavin’s face for a sign of recognition or remembrance. All he probably saw was bitchy exhaustion and a trace of bewilderment. “When you stated that I should let you know if I ever needed something.”

Gavin’s look of angry confusion melted into angry realisation.

“I need something, Detective Reed,” RK900 clarified.

“For fucks sake,” Gavin groaned, moving his right hand to rub his forehead only to double-take as his cast bumped off the bridge of his nose. “You took that _seriously_? I was high on drugs and had a fuckin’ concussion. You really gonna try and get me to repay you for doing the job?”

“It was not the job. I was acting of my own volition, detective. And you stated that I could request the help of you.”

Gavin grimaced, a hot feeling of he-did-not-fucking-know-what opening up in the pit of his belly. Okay. Yeah. He _did_ owe the android. What the hell could he want help with though? Weren’t androids supposed to be perfect and fucking flawless from the moment they popped off the conveyer belt?

“Need a lightbulb fitting or something? A fucking charging cable?”

“No.”

Gavin gave the android a look and took another wincing sip of ‘coffee’ as he waited for him to elaborate.

“I am having… difficulties at the precinct. The people there do not seem to appreciate my presence which is hampering my ability to work as efficiently as possible.”

Gavin smiled around his cup and absentmindedly tapped it against his lips. “Yeah, I’ve heard. Even Chris doesn’t like you. And he likes _everyone_ , crazy bastard… you seriously don’t get why they hate you?”

“That is what I am having difficulty with. I cannot understand what mistake I have made. I was hoping you could help me understand. That you could teach me how to act more ‘human’ and put my colleagues at ease.”

There was no long silence, no pause as Gavin considered the pros and cons of this. There was only disdain and a flat:

“No.”

RK900 nodded, like he’d been expecting that. “In addition to helping you three days ago, I put forth a delayed email on your systems, informing several of your colleagues of your plans regarding the arrest of Johnny Rudd. If the Captain is not aware of this, it is possible you will still face a disciplinary.”

This time the silence did stretch.

Gavin took one last gulp of the dregs of his coffee and put down the cup with a quiet clink. He then stood up and walked away. His bedroom door slammed behind him, leaving RK900 standing in the middle of the kitchen, Gavin’s cat purring like a motorboat and weaving through his legs.

 

* * *

 

It took Gavin all of ten seconds to realise that he’d left his phone in the living room, along with his laptop and any other semblance of entertainment. All there was to do in his ensuite bedroom was sleep and piss. He chose the latter. He even attempted to wash his face and bring the electric trimmer out, but gave it up as a bad job when he dropped the damn thing five times over.

 _Goddamnit_.

It was supposed to be about six weeks for the rib and collarbone and up to eight weeks for the wrist, probably more if he kept jostling it. He could deal with one hand though. He’d done it before. That just meant he had to last five weeks with only his right hand fingers to do everything…

Gavin sighed, chucked the trimmer in the sink and left. It’d been eight minutes now, hopefully the terminator had got the message and left.

He hadn’t. He was stood right outside of Gavin’s door, poised perfectly to give him a heart attack.

“Shit!” Gavin shouted, jumping back and hissing as his chest flared with pain. “Can’t you take a fucking hint?”

“You did not give me a hint. You simply left,” RK900 stated in a crisp tone, hands clasped firmly behind his back.

“Well, yeah,” Gavin grunted, shoulder bumping past the android to go pick up his phone from the sofa. “That’s what people do when some stick up the arse android tries to blackmail them. Either that or punch them.”

He glanced back at the android, glare at the ready only for the expression to freeze on his face. RK900’s LED was red and yellow and his body was ridged. A distant sort of surprise seemed to take over his face, his eyes were wide, eyebrows raised and mouth softly parted. He glanced away for a moment then looked back at Gavin, opening his mouth to speak but not getting a chance as Gavin raised his hand to stop him.

“You weren’t blackmailing me, were you?”

“No, I was not.”

“You were just telling me that you’re helping square it with Fowler.”

“Yes, I was.”

“… _Christ_. You really do need lessons.”

Gavin flopped down on the sofa and closed his eyes with a sigh. So now he owed RK900 his life, his clean record, and a fucking apology.

“Fine,” he huffed out, already regretting his words even as he said them. “What the hell? I’ll help you. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

There was no response. Gavin unscrunched his eyes and flinched back as RK900’s face loomed just inches above his. He was smiling and it was freaky.

Gavin really had his work cut out for him, didn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit of a shorter chapter this time, but the next will be much larger with double the word count at least. 
> 
> Next time: Lesson 1- Lying


	3. Lesson 1: Lying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lesson one- in which Hank gets mad, Gavin is bored and RK900 plays poker with the resident trash bag.  
> Gavin cheats because of course he does.

* * *

 

Gavin had pleaded exhaustion that night, both because he _had_ been exhausted and also because he just really didn’t want to do it. This whole teaching thing would be a Tomorrow Gavin’s problem. Last Night Gavin just wanted to fall asleep on the couch while watching catwalk models try to claw each other’s eyes out.

Tomorrow Gavin did not appreciate this decision when he woke up covered in cats with a crick in his already cricked neck and a foul taste in his mouth. He blinked several times, trying to figure out what woke him. By the look of the dim amount of light coming from the balcony window, it was close to the ass crack of dawn. He shifted slightly and Kit and Exie gave soft meowing grumbles at being disturbed. Then a sound started to register, a loud continuous tapping noise- no, a rapping noise coming from his door.

Gavin shifted Kit off but let Exie continue to wrap herself around his neck, wiping her happy dribble into the bristly stubble running down from his chin. She wasn’t too heavy and she wasn’t hurting him so he saw no point in moving her.

He carefully staggered up and slouched towards the door, absentmindedly lifting his hand to rub at his eyes only to get an eyeful of plaster instead. He stopped and sighed before glaring through the peephole of his front door.

_Oh gawd._

It was the android. He was back. For his ‘lessons’. What the hell did he expect from Gavin? He wasn’t exactly Mr Popularity here.

He didn’t move for a few seconds, just staring at the distorted face outside his door, wondering if he just held himself very still, his walking nightmare would just go away.

“I know you’re awake, Detective Reed. I can hear you breathing.”

Gavin’s left eye spasmed and he opened the door.  

“Okay, first lesson asshole, don’t tell people you can hear them breathing. That’s stalker talk.”

“Understood, Detective,” said RK900, nodding seriously, like he was making a mental note or some shit.

Gavin groaned and rolled his eyes, moving to the side to let the walking computer error in.

“Also, ‘tomorrow’ doesn’t mean ‘first thing tomorrow’ if I meant that, I would’ve said it. Come at a more normal time next time.”

“What’s a normal time?”

“I dunno, nine, maybe ten? Eleven on a weekend.”

RK900 considered this, following Gavin to his kitchen. Gavin watched him from the corner of his eye and picked up an apple from Tina’s fruit hamper present. He slouched against one of the counters, carefully so as not to dislodge his purring cat scarf, and took a large bite.

“I am most often in at work by seven. That timing would be impractical for improving my efficiency.”

“Then come round _after_ work, dipshit,” Gavin grumbled. He took another bite of his apple, wincing as the juice ran down the inside of his cast. Shit. That was going to be annoying when it dried.

“… Apologies, Detective. I was simply _eager_ to get started.”

Gavin glanced up from his cast at the remarkably unexcited pokerface RK900 was sporting.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he drawled. “So, what the fuck do you want to learn from me? I’m not exactly an expert on socialising you know.”

“I know.”

Gavin’s eye twitched again, he didn’t say anything to which RK900, unfortunately, took as an invitation to keep talking.

“It is my belief that if I am able to socialise effectively with you, I will be able to do so with almost anyone else.”

_…The hell with this shit!_

“The fuck you say to me?!”

Exie gave a trilling and annoyed meow at his sharp tone, before unwrapping herself and dropping to the floor. Gavin barely even noticed.

“Your heart-rate and perspiration rate have increased. I apologise, Detective, did I say something to upset you?”

Gavin squinted incredulously at RK900, anger fading in the face of his sheer bewilderment.

“Okay, right,” Gavin took in a long, slightly calming breath through his clenched teeth. “Add this to lesson one: don’t tell people about their own bodies. It’s freaky, and I **don’t** want to hear it. Also, you shouldn’t tell me that I’m like the worst person to talk to, it’s not, uh, ‘nice’,” he put the apple down in his sling to free his right hand to do air-quotes on the word nice. It wasn’t really needed though. The distain in his voice alone was enough to impart his opinion on niceties.

RK900 frowned and tilted his head to the side ever so slightly. “I was simply telling the truth.”

“You don’t have to- _ugh_. Then here’s today’s _real_ lesson: Lie. Go to work and tell one goddamn lie without getting caught.”  

“… Alright,” said RK900, nodding to himself before turning on his heal and walking out of Gavin’s flat without a single word.

Gavin stared after him, mouth open.

What a fucking piece of work!

 

* * *

 

The rest of Gavin’s morning was quiet, with the afternoon following much in the same vein. He didn’t shave but he managed to wrap his cast up in clingfilm with his teeth and some tender use of his left hand, to have a shower. It was glorious and irritating all at the same time. He did manage to get somewhat clean but he couldn’t really wash his hair properly and he kept forgetting about his damaged limbs and bumping them against the shower walls. Damn, he wished he had a bathtub. 

After that was done, he checked the clock and realised he’d spent a grand total of forty minutes in there. It was seven-fucking-thirty. He was awake now, and he knew he wasn’t getting back to sleep any time soon.

What else was there to do? He couldn’t play video games because of the hands. He couldn’t cook or clean much because, again, ‘hands’.

He ended up texting Tina a bit, asking if she missed him, expecting some silly joke back. Showed him how well he knew her. Instead of a dark joke or a witty one liner, he ended up getting five paragraphs of heartfelt texts telling him he was an idiot, repeating the finer points of the lecture of self-care she gave him at the hospital, and finally staying that of course she missed him.

Good old Tina.

The texting turned to a lighter note after that, with Tina filling him in on the latest gossip and sharing the odd awful joke. This unfortunately only lasted an hour or so before Tina had to put down the phone so not to get in trouble.

It was now nine-thirty. With nothing else coming to mind, Gavin gave into the inevitable. He turned on the television and started the soul crushing search for semi-decent daytime TV.

 

* * *

 

By the time evening rolled around, Gavin felt like he’d had enough infomercials, talk shows and crappy re-runs to last a lifetime. He wasn’t even angry when he heard RK900’s stupid continuous rapping echoing through the flat. At least it was _something_ to do. 

He opened the door, ready to gleefully smirk and snark to his dark heart’s content, only to stop mid-insult at the look of sheer unadulterated misery plastered over the androids face. Gavin wasn’t sure how he did it. The face itself was still as straight as a poker but the eyes were _maybe_ a bit wider than usual, and there was _perhaps_ a faint tremor to his lips. The yellow and red LED was the main clue though.

“Jesus. What the fuck happened to you?”

“I failed the mission.”

There was a pause, then Gavin stared up at the top of the doorframe and at the crappy artex ceiling beyond it, mentally asking ‘ _why me? Why do I have to deal with this?_ ’ He didn’t say any of this though, having resigned himself to the fact that yeah, he was gonna have to deal with the sad sack of an android who most likely saved his fucking life.

“Come on in then,” he sighed, turning around and leading him to the kitchen counter, waving an arm at the chair on the other side. RK900 slumped after him but immediately straightened up as he sat down, like he had stuck a ruler up his spine or something.

“ _Right_ ,” said Gavin, eyeing him warily as he sat down and pulled over a half empty bottle of sparkling water. It was flat and gross but he drank it anyway. “What happened?”

“I attempted to lie to Lieutenant Anderson. He did not react well.”

“No shit,” Gavin said, eyebrows raised. “You’ve got balls to go after Hank.”

RK900 tilted his head to the side and Gavin knew, he just _knew_ what he was going to say even before he opened up his mouth.

“Don’t you dare tell me anything about your balls,” he preempted the lecture, holding up his hand as if to physically hold back the incoming flood of TMI. “Remember what I said. You don’t _always_ have to tell the truth. Just tell me what you said to him.”

“I told him that I did not dislike the garish colour combination of his undershirts.”

Gavin choked on the mouthful of flat water he’d so wisely decided to sip at that moment. It sprayed onto RK900’s face who gave him a somewhat disdainful look.

Gavin whacked his chest and ignored the stabbing message from his broken rib to knock it off, in favour of cackling like a hyena. Quite literally. His jaw was thrown open and his head was thrown back and he gave several short barks of loud laughter.

“Oh _god_ , hah, give a guy some warning would ya?”

“Why are you laughing? I did as you instructed and it simply made things worse. The Lieutenant was quite angry at me,” the android complained, wiping at his face with the back of his sleeve and frowning down as the mark it made on his douchey white coat.

Gavin’s smile faded. “Look moron, of course he’d call you out on such a stupid lie. Haven’t you ever had to lie for a case before?”

“Yes.”

“And did you get caught out then?”

“No.”

“So what’s the problem? Just use your god given coding and lie like a pro.”

RK900 frowned at that. It seemed to be his second favourite expression, just after resting blank face

“Your god did not give me this coding. Cyberlife’s engineers did. Due to their instructions to impede on any potential deviation, I can now only _partially_ access that coding when out on an active case. After Connor, Cyberlife did not want to give me the ability to socialise effectively outside of my missions, let alone _lie_.”

Well. That took the wind from Gavin’s sails. Fucking Cyberlife. He could fib and say androids deserved that, that the company was in the right and that really androids weren’t suppose to make friends or be able to choose to lie or not… but… yeah.

 _Cyberlife_ , what a load of cunts.

Of course, Gavin didn’t say any of this. In his mind, he was being friendly enough to the android as it was. He didn’t want RK900 to think he could cozy up to him because he felt a _shred_ of sympathy. Instead, Gavin casually itched his nose and shrugged.

“Okay, fine. But don’t you have some fancy learning code or something? You could learn to lie.”

“Yes. I can learn, detective. That is why I asked for lessons,” RK900 slowly explained, as if he were speaking to a dumbass.

“Whatever, Mr Smartiepants,” Gavin rolled his eyes, not conceding the fact that RK900 was technically in the right. Yeah, Gavin hadn’t really told him _how_ to lie, he just sent him off. And, really, Gavin would’ve probably tried to palm him off yet again, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was so freaking bored.

If he was going to help this moron, he might as well get some entertainment value out of it.

“In the first draw under the microwave, there’s some playing cards. Get them out. Oh and grab me a beer while you’re there.”

“Why?” Asked RK900 not moving and frown back in place. He probably wasn’t pleased about being given domestic orders. Gavin got that, it’s the only reason he didn’t snarl at the question. Instead, he smirked.

“We’re gonna work on your poker face.”

 

* * *

 

RK900 was crap at poker. It would be funny if it weren’t so pathetic.

Wait, no, it was still funny.

Gavin didn’t bother to smother his snickers as he laid down another flush.

“This game does not match any rules I can find online,” RK900 stated, staring at the cards before folding.  They weren’t playing for anything really. Gavin didn’t have much in the way of money on him to bet, and RK900 didn’t carry any.

“It’s the bastardised Reed version of poker, like a mix of Texas Hold’em, Old Maid and fuck knows what else. Played this with the grandparents when I was a kid,” said Gavin, too flushed with success to be bothered about how friendly he was acting. “So stop being a shit loser.”

(Just because he was acting friendly didn’t mean he was acting _nice_.)

“I am not. I was only stating the discrepancy.”

“Uh-huh. You fingered out how I keep winning yet?” Gavin asked, shuffling the new deck.

“… No. It does not make sense. I kept my face completely emotionless the last five rounds. How did you know when to fold?”

Because Gavin was cheating. He wasn’t going to say that though. RK900 would have to figure that one out himself. Instead, Gavin went for a half-truth.  

“‘ _Emotionless’_ isn’t what you need when you’re lying,” Gavin grinned, tapping the side of his slightly crooked nose before looking down to share out the cards again. “Cause then it obvious you’re lying. Also people don’t look _just_ at your face; they look at your body and it’s harder to lie with that. What you need to do is distract them, give’m a show.”

Gavin paused to look over his cards with a heavy furrow to his brow, clicking his tongue and humming softly.

“You do it enough and they won’t know whether your sucking in your teeth for a bad hand, to pretend it’s a bad hand or to pretend you’re pretending it’s a bad hand.”

“… This is confusing.”

Gavin glanced up from his cards and smirked. “Welcome to the world of lies. You’ll get used to it.”

Gavin didn’t catch the faint upturn to RK900’s lips at that, he was too busy rearranging his cards one handedly and spinning out strategies in his head.

This didn’t mean Gavin couldn’t multitask though. He was enjoying listing out all the ways RK900 has fucked up, it was strangely relaxing, so he kept going.

“See, where you went wrong with Hank is he’s a natural born liar. You were too obvious, like you needed to say you _like_ his shirt not that you don’t _not_ like it. Instant suspicion there,” Gavin pointed a finger at RK900’s chest, making him glance down just long enough for Gavin to slip back a bad card onto the top of the deck. He leaned over and pushed the cards towards RK900. “Although that guy is instant suspicion all the fucking time. Kinda comes with the territory being a detective and all. What you need to do is pick someone easier, less grumpy, and match your face to your words. I bet you had the fucking blank face on when you said it.”

“Who would you recommend?”

“Hah, didn’t deny that, did you? You _did_ have the blank face,” Gavin snorted, looking up only to roll his eyes as he saw said blank expression looking back. “Remember, _emotion._ You need one, the more confusing the better.”

RK900 considered this for a moment before abruptly smiling. It was freaky and full of teeth but it was a start so Gavin didn’t comment except for averting his eyes with a low whistle.

“ _Any_ way, I reckon Connor would be a safe bet. That guy wants to be liked, he’s more likely to believe a lie about him looking good.”

“I disagree. RK800 models can implement their lie detectors at will, he would see through anything I said.”

“Eh, maybe. Lie detectors aren’t that great though. They can be fooled. Courts won’t use them you know. Besides, like I said, he _wants_ to be liked, so he’s more likely to believe you.”

RK900 hummed at that. Gavin looked up at him again. He wasn’t smiling any more but he wasn’t blank faced either. He had a faint crease between his eyebrows.

 _He’s learning_. _Still got a way to go though._

Time to amp up the distractions.

“So, _RK900_ then…”

RK900 tilted his head to the side, still looking at his cards, not Gavin. _Newbie_.

“You don’t have a name, like Connor?”

“My name is Connor, but I decided it would be too confusing to use it in the same work place as the RK800 unit.”

Gavin blinked, momentarily distracted by this tidbit of information.

“Huh,” he looked back down at his cards, pretending to swap out a card and frowning softly. “You should think about getting a name for yourself then. Makes people see you more as a person and less a program. Even a nickname would do.”

“A nickname?”

“Yeah, R K Nine-hundred is a mouthful. Like just go for the letters, like RK, or maybe Nine,” Gavin said, putting down his hand for a moment to have a quick swig of his drink.

RK900 looked up from his cards, back down at them then up again. His frown wasn’t as heavy as usually was but it was still there. It was a great improvement on the blank expression but he’d have to choose something better if he was going to try to pull the wool over Gavin’s eyes. It was clear he was distracted.

“… I believe you are trying to distract me, detective.”

“And it’s working,” Gavin smirked, revealing his cards. RK900 stared them with round eyes then folded. “Another round?”

“… Yes. Please.”

In the end, RK900 did manage to win a round, the second to last. Gavin had said it was luck but RK900 just shook his head and grinned.

“ _Eugh_. Okay, lesson two is gonna be smiling. Don’t do that again until we’ve got it sorted.”

RK900 smiled again and Gavin rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t long after that, that Gavin started yawning a little too wide and a little too long. RK900 stopped the game half-way through a round when he noticed Gavin’s hand twitching to his chest after an especially long one. 

“Good night, Detective Reed. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Not at the ass crack of dawn remember,” Gavin said, giving what would have been a pointed glare if it hadn’t looked so exhausted.

“No, I remember. It is a Saturday tomorrow. I will see you at eleven. Goodbye for now, detective.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything, simply watching RK900 from his seat as he nodded and left, softly closing the door behind him.

So… that happened.

Gavin had played poker with an android. He would’ve never thought to see the day. Half a year back he’d probably hit himself round the head. Hell, maybe even a week back he’d have done that. But it had been… _okay_. Better than he expected really.

Weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Lesson 2- Smiling :)


	4. Lesson 2: smiling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which RK900 doesn't understand boundaries and can picks locks, heart attacks are had and the general public are harassed.

* * *

 

It was an undeniable and uncontested truth that Gavin Reed loved his bed. He loved that it was bouncy, that his duvet was a downy cloud of softness and that all he had to do to get in it was to flop face forward two steps in from the door. It was huge, taking up almost all of his room in its king-sized splendour, allowing him to spread out like the crippled starfish he was. If he were the marrying sort, he’d have popped the question a long time ago. As it was, he had maintained a steady and mutually beneficial relationship with it… most of the time.

Last night hadn’t been good in the way of sleep. He thought it would be. Gavin had been in a good-ish mood when he had buried himself in blankets and cushions. He even managed to get to sleep within ten minutes, a new record for him. The only problem was, he forgot to take his painkillers.

Actually, wait, _no_. That wasn’t the only problem. There was also the little issue that his subconscious still hadn’t cottoned onto the fact he’d been beaten to hell and back, and decided to make him roll over to his front, waking him up with a strangled scream as he jostled both his rib and collarbone. After that, it had been hell on Earth to get back to sleep. He’d only just about managed it by five in the morning, which was why he was currently dead to the world and snoring his ass off in broad daylight.

“…Detective.”

Gavin’s nose scrunched slightly, he let out another sleepy huff of breath.

“Detective Reed.”

His lips smacked dryly together and he shifted his head away from the annoying sound. Did he leave the tv on or something?

“Detective Reed!” 

Gavin’s eyes snapped open. He stared at the ceiling. It had eyes.

“GuAGH!”

RK900 moved back, just in time to avoid a collision as Gavin jumped up like he was fitted to a springboard.

“ _You_ \- I- the **_hell_ _?!_** ”

“I apologize for waking you detective but it is now one minute past the latest time you specified yesterday.”

Gavin stared at him, eyes crazed and mouth silently opening and shutting.

“Are you alri-”

“ _Get the hell out of my room_!” Gavin screamed, brain suddenly catching up with the fact that this wasn’t a freaky ass dream, and that, yes, the freaky ass android had indeed broken into his fucking flat.

RK900 processed this, LED flashing yellow, then nodded, straightening his stupid, over-starched coat collar and neatly stepping away and out of the room. Gavin scrunched into himself, hand plastered to his chest, trying to calm his breathing.

_Oh **gawd**. What the fuck? What the fuck?! _

As the seconds ticked by, the shock started to melt away, to be replaced with a deep-seated anger.

**_What. The. Fuck._ **

Gavin threw off the covers, hissing, and swearing as the violent move caused a tidal wave of pain to sear up his chest. This didn’t stop him from ripping open the bedroom door like a hurricane though.

“The hell is your problem, you son of a bitch?!” Gavin hissed, storming right up to RK900’s face and violently shoving a finger in the centre of his chest. RK900 didn’t even flinch. He just stared down at Gavin, that stupid blank face back up with a vengeance.

“I do not have a problem.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ do! Where the hell did you get the idea that you could just break into my fuckin’ apartment?!”

“… I did not break anything. I picked the lock. I did not think you would be so opposed.”

Gavin somewhat lost control of his verbal faculties at that point. He might have yelled something and he definitely swore. Although it was hard to tell what he was saying between the spluttering hisses and choking growls. It took a minute or so for him to reign in enough control to ask:

“Why the _hell_ did you think I’d be okay with a plastic asshole like you creeping in here uninvited?”

RK900 looked down, LED a deep yellow. “I heard that Connor did so with Lieutenant Anderson. He was not upset by this.”

“Yeah? Well, they’re friends! We’re not! Don’t you fucking dare do that ever again!”

There was a long silence. RK900 stared unblinkingly down at Gavin, not speaking, not doing anything. Gavin, pulled back his finger from his chest, heavy glare fading into a lighter, more uncertain glare.

“…Of course, detective Reed. I apologize.”

Gavin glowered some more, but his heart wasn’t really in it now. He just felt tired. He rubbed at his face and sighed, stepping out of the Android’s personal bubble.

“Whatever. Just, yeah. Wait next time,” he turned around and slouched back to his room.

“Am I- is it acceptable if I remain here?”

Gavin stopped walking. That was the first time he’d ever heard the android trip over his words.

“…You’ll just be back later. Let’s get this over with,” Gavin sighed. “Anyway, I’ve got shit to do and you owe me for scaring the crap out of me like that.”

“Of course, detective. I am more than happy to assist in any way,” came a more assured version of the android’s voice. Gavin sneered and mimicked that stupid tone under his voice.

“‘ _Of course, detective._ ’ ‘ _More than happy_ ’”

What a load of shit.

 

* * *

 

RK900 was a creepy little shithead, but Gavin could hand it to him: he could really drive. 

Not.

“Woah, slow down, I think that Granny just overtook us!” Gavin exclaimed, waving his right hand in mock urgency. He wasn’t in the best of moods from both this morning and from the fact RK900 hadn’t let him drive, pickpocketing his keys and coldheartedly explaining there was a 90% chance of a critical crash if he drove. Bad moods and Gavin were not a good mix, often bringing the sarcasm out to play.

RK900 glanced around for said Granny then threw Gavin a soft frown. “You are lying; there is no elderly woman driving near us.”

“No. She left us in the dust ages ago,” Gavin snarked, rolling his eyes again when RK900 just frowned at him. “It was a _joke._ Like sarcasm? Ringing any bells?”

“I know what sarcasm is. I simply did not find your statement amusing,” RK900 retorted, looking back at the road as it crawled past them.

“… Lesson two’s gotta be getting you a sense of humour then,” Gavin said, turning his head to stare out the car window.

“You said you would teach me how to smile today, Detective Reed.”

“Oh, yeah,” Gavin had forgotten about that. He turned back to give RK900 an assessing look. “Okay then, hit me with your best.”

RK900 didn’t immediately respond, he waited until they reached a red traffic light before turning in the driver’s seat and flashing Gavin a smile.

“ _Eugh_. Okay. No. Not unless you’re trying to scare someone.”

“What is wrong with it? The definition of a smile dictates that the corners of the mouth are tilted up and teeth are exposed.”

“Not _all_ of them. You look like a shark, but _wrong_.”

RK900 thought about this, then tried again.

And Gavin burst out laughing, holding his chest like a lifeline. “Ow! Haha. Ow! Not- not just your front teeth you- hah- you idiot.”

RK900 started driving again, pointedly not looking at Gavin as the man ugly-laughed his arse off.

“There was a problem with that?”

“You looked like a fucking bunny rabbit. RK900 the android rabbit! Hah!”

RK900 did not respond to this, instead neatly pulling the car into a free parking space in one fluid movement.

Huh, maybe if Gavin could get him to speed up a bit he wouldn’t be a half bad driver. He turned around to say as much (with a few withering insults mixed in to make sure he came off as matter of fact and not ‘nice’), only to stop short as he saw what RK900 was doing. He was staring at Gavin’s lips, at the frozen smile there, and smiling back. It was better than the last two attempts that was for sure, but it still looked wrong somehow. Like he looked as if he was glaring and grinning at the same ti- _Hold the phone_.

“Are you fuckin’ mimicking my smile?”

“Is it working?”

“No. Don’t copy me. It’s weird.”

The smile snapped off and RK900 let out a soft huff of irritation. “Then what do you propose?”

“I ‘propose’ we get out of the car, I get on with my stuff and you- yeah, you do that copying crap. Just not on me.”

RK900 blinked and tilted his head. Gavin sighed and struggled out of the car, waving at RK900 to follow him.

“Look it’s not hard, just sit on a bench somewhere and people watch. Don’t be obvious about it though. Quick looks, or they’ll realise you’re a freak.”

“Where will you be?” Asked said freak.

“Mind your own business, that’s where.”

Another frown. Gavin ignored it.

“I’ll see you at that café over there in an hour. You’re buying lunch.”

“You do not need any assistance?”

Yeah, truth be told, Gavin needed assistance. He was having to buy a ton of easy open cat food since he couldn’t open the canned stuff anymore, and he was going to have to stock up on a lot of easy instant meals. He was also going to need help reaching the shelves, packing everything and carrying all the bags. Gavin needed a _lot_ of things. But like hell was he going to admit it.

“Aww, how sweet. No. Now fuck off.”

And with that, Gavin turned on his heal and stormed away.

 

* * *

 

A cold, sickly sweat prickled at Gavin skin as he swagger-staggered into the coffee shop over an hour and a half later. He did his best to look casual, even with a ton of plastic bags hanging off his cast and a distinctly sallow look to his face. 

Thank fuck RK900 had got him a table near the front. If it were just him, he’d probably have taken one look at the crowded tables he’d have to weave through and have just left. And Gavin didn’t _want_ to leave. He wanted coffee. With the intensity of a rocket targeting device in dire need of caffeine, his eyes latched on to RK900 who was sat with a sandwich and a cooling cup of black ambrosia right in front of him.

“Thank god,” said Gavin, dropping his bags with a crash and grabbing the cup without even a how-de-do.

“Hello Detective Reed, did your tasks go well?” Asked RK900, his usually robotic voice ever so slightly higher pitched than usual. Gavin ignored this and the question in favour of gulping down as much coffee as humanly possible in the smallest time frame possible.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gavin caught RK900 tilting his head to the side, glancing down at the overspilling shopping bags. Gavin didn’t care at that moment. He was still drinking the coffee, sat down in the chair now, legs spread out and back heavily slumped. RK900 stared from across  the small table, straight-backed, perfectly groomed and with his hands clasped neatly in his lap, looking as different from Gavin as night and day.

RK900 cleared his throat. He didn’t need to but had most likely seen humans do it as a way of getting people’s attention. It didn’t work on Gavin who continued to ignore him, so he opened his mouth and spoke.

“If you are having difficulty opening the cans of cat food, I am more than happy to assist.”

Gavin paused and put down the half-empty cup, wiping his mouth with the back of his cast. He looked at RK900, eyes narrowed consideringly.

“I could also assist you in preparing more nutritious meals for yourself.”

The look of consideration faded.

“I’m fine,” lied Gavin.

Gavin Reed wasn’t fine. His head ached, his wrist hurt and his chest was burning from when some old bat barged into his left side at the supermarket and knocked him to the ground. Really, he should’ve ordered all that stuff online but it was hard to tell if everything would be usable with only one hand. Much easier in person. Also, he wanted to get out of the flat before his hobo beard grew too big for him to be seen in public.

RK900 was staring at him, eyes roaming over his grimy face as if looking for a tell. Time for a distraction.

“So, how’d the smile searching go?” Gavin asked, fumbling one-handedly with the sandwich box.

Distraction success! RK900 stopped searching Gavin’s face and looked down at his lap.

“I stored over sixty variations of a smile in my memory banks,” he clipped out. “However, several humans did not seem to appreciate my staring, even though I did as you said and didn’t consecutively stare at them.”

Gavin, who was starting to gain a better understanding of RK900’s rather literal personality, gave him a deadpan look. “ _Sure_. Show me then; how’d you watch them?”

RK900 straightened up his already pretty straight posture and glanced around the room… then around again, and again.

“You’re moving your head like a security camera,” said Gavin disbelievingly. “ _Why_ are you moving your head like a security camera? You don’t do that normally.”

RK900 made to answer but Gavin held up his hand, not that interested in hearing whatever stupid reason the droid was going to give.

“Look, just watch me,” Gavin said before leaning back, scratching the back of his nose, and staring into space.

“There is no one where you are staring.”

“Give it a mo,” he said, before glancing around as someone got up from the chair, only for a moment before looking away. “Eyes are drawn to movement and sound, add in a bored expression and a body-slump, and _bingo_ , you’ve got yourself a low-key surveillance mode.”

Gavin gave a fake sigh and looked elsewhere, only to pause as he noticed someone looking back.

“…Why have you stopped using your reaction method?” Asked RK900, breaking Gavin’s concentration and making him glance away from the woman who’d met his gaze.

“Uh, someone was looking at me,” Gavin muttered, scratching at the back of his neck.

RK900 looked around at where the woman who had stared at him was sat. Gavin followed his gaze. She was blond and tall, with glasses falling down the bridge of her nose and an electronic book in her hand. Not Gavin’s usual type, but certainly very pretty. If he wasn’t so banged up and in the company of a socially inept android, Gavin might have tried his luck. As it was, he really wasn’t interested. Besides, she must’ve been into weird shit to be checking him out when he looked so rough. Gavin looked away and non-so-gently kicked RK900 under the table.

“Stop staring idiot, she’s going to think we’re talking about her.”

“But we are,” RK900 pointed out before following Gavin’s order nonetheless.

Gavin’s answer to that was putting his forehead in his hand.

“Ow,” he hissed, pulling it back. Yeah, he’d done too much with that wrist today. Hell if he knew how he was going to get those bags back to his car. (And _no_ he wasn’t asking RK900 for help.) He shook off this thought and focused on the present; the embarrassing present. “Look, she was just checking me out. See, in a few moments she’s gonna look up again. Do the staring into space thing and you’ll see.”

RK900 slouched his back ever so slightly and angled his chair towards the woman as he mimicked Gavin’s movements.

 _Fast learner_ , Gavin thought, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite. _Chicken and avocado huh? Not a bad choice._ Gavin vaguely wondered how RK900 knew he’d like that before suddenly jamming the breaks on that thought, deciding that he didn’t want to know and wasn’t _ever_ going to ask.

“You are correct,” Gavin heard RK900 say after a few minutes of Gavin’s semi-silent munching. “...Why is she doing that?”

Gavin stopped chewing and stared into space…No. Nope. No way in hell was Gavin explaining this. If he started talking about flirting RK900 would try to get him to teach that too and that was a step too far in Gavin’s books. Also, teaching him how to act friendly was one thing, but he was _not_ going to teach the android how to dupe someone into a fake relationship for fuck’s sake.

Why the hell was he doing this again? …Oh yeah. It saved his ass- **he** saved his ass, of his own slightly bored free will…

“Doesn’t matter,” he softly muttered in answer to Nines’s question, before cramming a large bite of his sandwich in his mouth. “You gonna show me those smiles or what?”

RK900’s eyes twitched at Gavin’s show of manners, his focus entirely centred on the arc of the fragment of mashed up bread and chicken that had jettisoned from Gavin’s mouth to land on the edge of the table.

“Nah, that’s not a smile. That’s like a grimace,” said Gavin, still talking with his mouth full and stuffing even more of his food in. RK900 held the expression for a few more seconds before slowly starting to cycle through the collection of smiles he’d seen.

“Nah,” was Gavin’s eloquent response to the first two.

“No,” he said to the third and sixth.

The fourth and eighth got a resounding: “ _God_ no.”

Gavin almost laughed at the fourteenth. “That’s fuckin’ terrifying, did you get that from a kid or something?”

It was the eighteenth that proved to be a winner. A closed-lipped smile, with a faint dimple forming on his right cheek. Apparently he got it from an old woman sitting on a bench and staring up at the sky. Only RK900 wasn’t staring at the sky. He was staring at Gavin.

“Eh, that one’s okay,” said Gavin, looking away quickly and clearing his throat. “You keep working on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: lesson 3- Names


	5. Lesson 3: Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gavin overthinks things, card games are played and RK900 chooses a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a smaller chapter here but hopefully the next chapter will be much longer  
> Thanks for reading so far :) I've got over the 200 kudos mark so I'm happy about that, and the comments have been fantastic!

* * *

It wasn’t every day that RK900 came around.  If that were the case, Gavin would’ve probably gone insane. Not that RK900, who had tried pretty damn hard to argue for frequent visits, had cared about that. 

The thing was that Tina had wanted to come around too and there was no way in hell or high water that Gavin was going to explain this whole ‘mentoring’ thing to her. At least, not in any way that kept his dignity intact. And Gavin liked his dignity. It was about the only thing he had going for him at this moment. 

It was for that reason he had ignored RK900’s pragmatic offer to help him around the flat and lied through his teeth when Tina asked how he was coping. The cats were fine, the flat wasn’t on fire, so that was good enough for Gavin. 

Apparently, it wasn’t good enough for Tina who had taken one look at his beautifully craggy mug before almost knocking him over with a teary hug. 

She didn’t say anything about his appearance or the state of the place, she was good like that. But she did leave him a ton of leftovers in Tupperware boxes. Well, she said they were leftovers, but even RK900 would’ve seen through that lie. 

It was embarrassing. Having a mate suck their teeth in and force a smile, obviously pretending that everything was sunshine and rainbows, was up there with having your eyes pulled out by an electric drill in Gavin’s mind. 

He hadn’t let her round since, instead focusing on texting and calling her and lying his arse off as to why. 

RK900 didn’t suck his teeth in though. He didn’t wince or force smiles (except for when he was practising.) For all he knew this way of living, while distasteful to him, was normal for humans. Either that or he just didn’t care. This made his company strangely restful, encouraging Gavin to ease up on his insistence that RK900 came around, at most, three times a week. 

Gavin wouldn’t admit it, even if you put a gun to his head, but the evening card games were starting to become a bit of a thing. He’d even started setting up The CatWalk and Real Housewives of Detroit on record, in favour of sitting in the kitchen, a bottle of beer in hand (or, well, fingers) and a stitch in his stomach from laughing at RK900’s attempts at emotions. 

“It was not that amusing I assure you,” said RK900 with a small roll of his eyes, a little trick that Gavin was sure he’d picked up from him. 

“It is,” Gavin wheezed. “Oh, god. I can’t believe Brown thought you were being serious.” 

“I can certify that he did. I do not think sarcasm becomes me.”

“‘Don’t. ’It’s ‘don’t’ not ‘do not’,” Gavin corrected, still smiling as he put down his cards to nurse his beer. “You sound too posh with all those words. You don’t need them here.”

“Why is that, Detective Reed?” Asked RK900, leaning back in his chair slightly, as Gavin taught him. 

“Cause I’m the furthest thing from formal,” Gavin sniffed, putting the bottle back and swiping up his cards. “And stop calling me detective. I’m not detecting anything right now, ‘cept your bullshit try to distract me.”  

RK900 smiled over the top of his cards. It was a small smile, one of the ones Gavin had previously okayed. It made his eyes artificially crinkle at the edges. Gavin blankly stared at it, pushing down the hint of distaste curling in his stomach in favour of focusing on enjoying his beer and having someone to talk to. 

“What can I call you then?” RK900 asked, picking up a new card. 

Gavin scratched the bridge of his nose with his cards and looked away. “I dunno, Reed maybe? Gavin’s okay, sometimes.”  

Gavin’s eyes flickered back. RK900’s smile was bigger now. Gavin huffed out an irritable sigh and picked up another card. 

Damn, two of spades. That wasn’t what he wanted right now. 

“… I have decided on a name, Gavin.” 

Gavin paused and looked up. God, it weird to hear his name coming out from the hulking form of RK900. Thank fuck he’d stopped smiling when he said it, otherwise Gavin didn’t know how he would have reacted. As it was, RK900’s face was back to its normal slightly frowny self, waiting for Gavin’s response. 

“Oh yeah? Share with the class.” 

RK900 gave a new smile, this time smaller, his eyes downturned. 

“Nines.” 

Gavin thought about that, gaze tilting to the side, breath coming out a soft hum. “Sounds good. You’re going the nickname route?” 

“No. I would like that to be my name.”

“What? Just Nines?” 

The newly dubbed Nines nodded. 

Gavin sighed and put down his cards. “You need more than one name. Nines can work as a first one or something but you need a second one.”

“Why?” Asked Nines, his small smile gone. “Connor only has his first name.” 

“Yeah, well, if I were him- andthankfuckI’mnot- I’d get a surname. Like, you know how I said you can call me Gavin? Well, that’s only here. At work you’ve got to call me Reed, cause it’s different there. Less beer and more formal. So other people should call you your surname too. At least until you get all buddy-buddy with them; then you can use their first names.” 

Reed picked up his cards again and shuffled them around a bit, overly projecting his frowning glare as he observed his dismal collection of cards. He had a few cards under the counter but RK900, or Nines, had been unusually attentive of his actions the last few rounds. He glanced over at him, and sure enough, he was still staring intently, LED cycling blue and yellow. Gavin huffed and looked back at his hand, swapping out a card, and putting on an overly happy smirk when he saw it was another crap card. 

By the time Nines finally spoke again, Gavin had almost forgotten what they had been talking about. 

“…You don’t want me to be friendly at work?” 

“Hell no,” said Gavin. He could just imagine the reactions at the precinct if RK- if Nines acted all friendly-like with him at work. Tina would be freaked, pretty much everyone else would think he’d gone mad, Hank would tease him to hell and back, and Connor- actually. Gavin wasn’t sure what Connor would do. Either give him a freaky smile and start acting friendlier, or think he was up to something and keep a horribly close eye on him. Neither of those were things Gavin wanted. 

“Are you folding?” Nines asked, interrupting Gavin’s thoughts. Gavin grinned in an overly cheekily fashion and stared him down. Nines had his blank face back up, but his hands were twitching by his sides faintly. 

“Nah.” 

“Very well,” Nines said, before abruptly smirking and revealing a full flush. 

Gavin blinked down at the spread of cards he, looked up at Nines, then back to the cards and, oddly, felt the urge to grin from ear to ear. 

“You figured it out?” He asked, grin only growing as Nines gave a small, noncommittal tilt of his head. “Okay. You win this round. Don’t let it get to your head, Nines.” 

“Of course not, Gavin,” Nines returned, picking up the cards and re-dealing them. 

Gavin lost almost every other game that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson: Imitation


	6. Lesson 4: Imitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a proposal, Gavin loses a bet and Nines’s murder weapon of choice is laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay you guys. I think I said before I'd update every 1-2 weeks. May change that to every 2-3, at least until I manage to get a few life things in order. Hope you all had really good Christmases if you celebrate them and a fantastic New Year xxxx

* * *

 

* _Knockknockknockknockknockknock_ -*

“Doors open!” Gavin hollered from the sofa, bringing an end to the incessant sound of Nines's drill-like knocking. Gavin turned around again to face the TV, leaning back into the cushions and rolling down a cat slicker over Kit’s furry butt.

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” was Nines’s greeting as he walked into Gavin’s eye-line. Gavin ignored him, just shifting to the side to see the TV better.

“Shut it, Tin-man. Angelica’s just about to propose.”

Kit meowed softly, butting his head into Gavin’s stomach so he’d resume the grooming, which Gavin couldn’t do tilted to the side with his right hand bracing him. He sighed and glowered up at Nines, who hadn’t moved.

“We’ll do cards or whatever tomorrow. Move so I can watch this.” 

“Why is it so vital?” Nines asked, turning around to scan the image of the woman on the screen. She was nervously sat at a dimly lit restaurant, with a large quantity of fluffy brown hair encircling her head and garishly bright make up plastered on her face.

“Ugh, _look_ , Tina’s watching this tonight and I wanna be able to talk about it with her. Also bet her ten dollars that Ruby says no.”

Nines continued to stare at the screen. He didn’t move. 

“You’re not gonna leave are you?” Gavin sighed in a resigned tone, straightening up. There was a worryingly sharp throb of pain as he used his hand to push himself upright. Gavin ignored it.

Nines had turned around to answer but Gavin pre-empted whatever weird shit he was about to say by shoving off the tangled pile of blankets and jumpers he’d been building up on the sofa over the last few weeks, and creating an empty space beside him.

“If you’re staying, get out of the way and shut the hell up.”

And that was how Gavin found himself squished up on a sofa with a huge hunk of plastic and two attention hungry cats. Nines was quiet, hands clasped neatly in his lap. His back wasn’t _quite_ as straight as a ramrod any more, but he still wasn’t half as slouched as Gavin who looked like he was bent in two in comparison. Gavin was going to teach that fucker how to slouch if it was the last thing he did. But not right now. Right now he was grinning from ear to ear as he watched Angelica try to rip Raphael (Ruby’s surprise new boyfriend) into a thousand over-tanned little pieces.

“The eyes! Go for the eyes!” Gavin cheered, making Exie wobble and jump down from her precarious perch atop his head. Nines was giving him a funny look but Gavin couldn’t find it in him to care, especially when his phone lit up with a call from Tina.

_Again another throb of pain lanced through his arm as he lifted the phone to his ear. Again he ignored it._

“Oh my god, are you seeing this?” Tina exclaimed straight off the bat.

“I’m sorry. Can’t see anything here but my sweet _sweet_ validation. That’ll be ten bucks please.”

“Hold it, Gav. Angelica hasn’t even proposed yet. Ruby still loves her, she just didn’t get they were exclusive.”

“Oh come off it,” Gavin laughed, pinching the phone between his shoulder and ear as he one-handedly pick up Exie, foiling her plans to jump onto his head again. He draped her round his neck like a furry tie instead, which she readily accepted. “Marriage is all about the exclusive. She won’t just-”

“What did you say?” Ruby’s voice squealed out from the screen, cutting Gavin off.

“I love you Ru-ru! More than anything in the world. I will be there for you no matter what. I will be there for you like _he_ could never be. Don’t- don’t date him.  Be mine. Be my wife.”

Tina had gone silent on the other end, breathing heavily into the receiver.

“…Yes,” choked out Ruby, tears streaming down her face as she flung herself over the drooling, bloodied remains of Raphael, and into Angelica’s arms. “Oh my god, yes! Of course I will marry you!”

There was a beat of silence.

“GET IN!” Roared Tina so loudly Exie jumped and dug her claws into Gavin’s neck.

Gavin pulled his head away from the phone and wincingly detached the adorable needle goblin from his throat while Tina continued to caw out her unbridled delight. Gavin couldn’t begrudge her the win though. He just smiled and rolled his eyes fondly.

“Whatever, dork. I’ll pay up when I get back to work.”

Tina’s response to that was kinda garbled so Gavin just chuckled and hung up.

It was only when he flicked the TV to something else that the unmoving lump next to him stirred and finally spoke. 

“Is it permissible for me to speak now?”

Gavin bit down the automatic sarcastic response bubbling up on his tongue. Nines might take him literally if he said no and as much as Gavin had fun being a dick, he didn’t really want to spend the evening having Nines watch him watch TV in dead silence. He clicked the mute button on the remote then impassively glanced over at Nines.

“So what d’you think of it?” He asked, both as a deflection for giving a _somewhat_ nice answer and because he was truly curious about what Nines thought of soap operas.

Nines considered the question, head tilted to the side. Gavin watched him, eyes dipping down to where Kit was snuggled into his side.

_He must be warm_ , Gavin mused. Kit only really slept on Gavin, radiators or in sunbeams. There was a gap between Nines and Gavin’s legs, so Gavin couldn’t tell, and he hadn’t touched him since… well, since he was first put out of commission. Gavin couldn’t remember what Nines had felt like, back when he held his hand, broke the cuffs off and _forced his injured head back like an asshole_.

“It was… lively,” said Nines, having finally settled on something diplomatic to say to his question. Gavin scoffed.

“You didn’t like it,” he translated, nodding his head even as Nines shook his. “Nah it’s fine. See, likes and dislikes are good. We don’t all enjoy the same stuff. Some of us have finer taste of course but I don’t blame you. You’ve obviously been poorly educated in the ways of crap TV.”

The blank expression and yellow LED that had been forming on Nines’s face seemed to freeze and melt away. Nines gave Gavin a small, twisted grin. “Are you going to teach me about TV, Gavin?”

He sounded amused. He _looked_ amused.

…Was he really finding this funny? Was he smiling at Gavin because there was something there to smile at? Or was it him just trying to get on his good side for more lessons, or to practice his socialising. Gavin didn’t recognise that smile, but there had been a _lot_ of them and he could’ve gone and downloaded some more when Gavin wasn’t looking.

It could be fake.

“Gavin?” Nines’s smile was gone now, as was his humorous tone. “Are you alright?”

Gavin stared at him, at the little furrow in his brow, and reigned his thoughts in.

“M’fine,” he said crisply, before looking back to the TV and the cast of ‘The Only Way is Detroit’ dancing in a club. He turned the volume back on and slouched back into the cushions of the sofa.  

They sat and watched it for a short while. Gavin wasn’t really paying it much attention though. He could feel Nines glancing at him. He was obviously trying to be subtle but still wasn’t there yet.

“Gavin, did I-”

“You could learn a lot from this show you know,” Gavin blurted out, nodding at the TV as one of the men drunkenly staggered against a wall and started to piss like a racehorse, while two other men started to sing ‘We are the Champions’ and walked into a lamppost.

“… Is that so?”

Despite Gavin’s earlier reservations, he couldn’t help but snigger at how dry Nines’s voice was there. It sounded like he swallowed the Sahara desert whole or something.

“Okay, yeah, not this bit, unless you need to play drunk for a mission or some shit. I mean, there’s lots of emotions here.”

Case and point: one of the men started to blubber and cry, the one who broke his sunglasses when he hit his head on the lamp post.

“My sunglasses!” He howled, holding the pieces in his hands and staring up at the heavens like they did him wrong.

“See, it’s obvious he’s upset. But there’s some people out there who aren’t good at reading others. You could put on a show for them. Pretend you’re feeling more than you are so they can get it.” Gavin watched Nines really carefully as he said this, but there was no reaction beyond an interested head tilt. His LED stayed blue. Gavin started to wonder-

“I don’t think I like this show, Gavin.”

Gavin frowned and turned back to the screen where pisser and sunglass man had started to fight, hollering language around that might even make Hank blush. Gavin rolled his eyes, more out of habit than annoyance, and flicked the TV onto his hard drive. He searched through the shows there, humming softly as he mentally compared and contrasted them, before selecting the last episode of The CatWalk. He’d already watched this one but he didn’t mind watching it again.

“Previously on The CatWalk,” came the caramel tones of the voice-over. Gavin leaned back into the stained and slightly crunchy cushions of his sofa and idly watched Nines watch the montage of men and woman as they raced to find a design that would suit a Scottish businessman. There were a few arguments over tartan fabric but no fist cuffs and no swearing. Gavin remembered that this one was about designing clothes for ten year old girls and boys. So there were lots of kids around the studio and remarkably less rude jibes than usual. Nines seemed to appreciate this by the look that grew on his face when one of the better designers high-fived their model.

Of course, it wouldn’t be reality TV without an argument or two.

“You’re high-waisting your pants?” Exclaimed a man with a neat line of stubble that made Gavin glare enviously. “But _I_ ’m doing high- _wai_ sted pants!”

“But _I_ ’m doing high- _wai_ sted pants,” Gavin mimicked, voice taking on an overly soft South Jersey accent.

“You’re good at that,” said Nines, making Gavin look away from the TV again. Nines has been staring at him, for how long Gavin didn’t know.

Creep.

“I’m alright,” Gavin sniffed, pointedly looking back at the TV and loosing a measure of tension from his frame when Nines did the same. “You should hear Tina do a California one. It’s hilarious.”

Nines’s LED flashed yellow for a moment and he stared intently at the screen.

“Ohmegerd! Can _not_ believe Jason said that about my pants. Like, of _course_ I’m not copying him!” Another man with a jacket made of zips, all but screamed.

Nines turned to look at Gavin again, pulling his attention from the show, opened his mouth and:

“Ohmegerd! Can _not_ believe Jason said that about my pants. Like, of _course_ I’m not copying him!”

There was a moment, just a split second, when all Gavin could do was stare. Then the moment ended. He started to laugh. It was loud and high pitched, bursting up his throat like an open bottle of champagne, making him choke and snort and shake. He leaned forward, unable to keep himself upright as the now silent laughter raked his frame. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes and he slapped his thigh and breathed heavily through the cackles and guffaws.

“Oh- oh my fuckin’ god!” He wheezed, still bent over. “Tha- that-”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence before dissolving into another peal of high pitched cackles. He glanced up at Nines, from his bent over position, who was staring down at him with a parted mouth and the widest fucking eyes he’d ever seen. In that moment, Gavin did not care that he was making a fool of himself. He didn’t care about how silly he looked.  Nines’s face has been so serious! And the voice coming out! It had been an almost exact carbon copy. There was still a hint of Nines about it but- but he-

Gavin started to laugh even louder, unable to say anything but just pointing at Nines’s face. Nines continued to stare but his eyes were less wide now, there was a small upturn to his lips. It turned into a grin as Gavin tried to calm himself down and failed.

It was only when Gavin had finally got his breath back that Nines spoke again:

“Jason is like _such_ a jerk. He’s just jealous he can’t never be as good as me.”

It took another five minutes, a hurt rib and a few withering glares from his cats for Gavin to calm down. Nines was smiling the whole time. This android was going to be the death of him, he really was.

But hey, if Gavin was going to go, death by laughter wasn’t a half bad way of doing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson: Compassion


	7. Lesson 5: Compassion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gavin needs help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this chapter was a bit tricky for me. It's not beta read so if there are any errors I've missed please let me know.  
> If anyone has any time on their hands and is at all interested in beta reading, I would be ecstatic to hear from you :) my tumblr is https://curlyhairedone.tumblr.com/  
> I'd also be happy to just chat about all things DBH, but beware my blog is 1% fanfic stuff and 99% cat videos and memes.

* * *

 

Gavin sat on the sofa, staring into space, eyes swallowed up by shadows and mouth set in a firm line. He had been up since four in the morning. He didn’t know what time it was now and he didn’t really care. It was light outside, cool sunshine streaming through the balcony window, so it was probably around seven or eight.

He should _do_ something.

He didn’t though. Instead he continued to sit on the sofa, blankly staring at the black TV screen, right hand softly spasming as he tried to get rid himself of the itch inside his cast. He wasn’t supposed to use his left arm for anything beyond the gentle stretches he’d been instructed on; if he did, it could take even longer to heal.

A large part of him didn’t care about that. It wanted to claw the sling off, use that hand to rip apart the cast and just shred the skin there to pieces. The plaster was too tight, his fingers sticking out like red, swollen sausages. He wanted it off. _He wanted it off_. It felt like there were insects there, crawling around, shitting everywhere. They were creeping out of the skintight plaster and itching up his skin, their spiked feet slipping on the stale sweat encasing his body. He scratched at this feeling, at his shoulders, his chest and his face: the worst part of all.

He was going to shave it all off. His stupid, gross beard was going to go. He would go out, buy a thin, disposable razor and everything would be gone. He didn’t care that he’d look like a kid with a clean shaven face, or that some of his old scars would be on display for the world to see. He’d just bury himself back into the rubble of his home and not let anyone in.

While he was out, he should get some more pain killers too. He had been running low for a week now, trying to space them out so he could make them last. They were all gone now. His wrist hurt. He needed to do this. They’d ask about it next time he was at the hospital for a checkup if he didn’t use that fuckin' prescription.

His clothes needed a wash as well. He’d run out of things he could easily put on, but the washing machines were in the basement and the lift was out of order... He’d do it tomorrow. He could stay in these clothes a bit longer, never mind the fact they were still damp with sweat from the nightmare that woke him up. The bed sheets had been gross as fuck to lie in too so he'd staggered up, sat on the sofa and hadn’t moved since. It wasn’t much better there. Gavin had done this a few nights in a row now and it was starting to show in the stains on the covers and smell of the cushions. He could send them off, send everything off to the cleaners. But then he’d have to pull them off the sofa and carry them. He couldn’t do that right now. He’d tried to carry the laundry before but he didn’t have a bag and he couldn’t carry the hamper with just his right hand fingers. He should buy that too, some sort of laundry bag that he could swing over his shoulder like a sweaty, fucked up Father Christmas. 

Yeah, he’d go out and do all this, sort his life out.

Any minute now.

Gavin continued to stare at the blank TV screen. Underneath it, old microwave meal containers were piled up, ready for when he cleared out all the trash. They were scraped clean. He wouldn’t leave out rotting food out where Kit would be a dumbass and eat it. There was still a smell of stale, old food in the air though. Perhaps coming from the kitchen sink where countless plates were piled up in week old water with all his cutlery, ready for when he could muster up the energy to wrap a plastic bag round his cast and get washing.

Gavin couldn’t even muster up the energy to do that for a fucking shower though. The plates had no chance. He should do it though. He should at least shower. He could do all the other shit tomorrow but he needed to wash. It had been days.

Gavin continued not to move.

 

* * *

 

* ** _Knockknockknockknockknockknockknock_** _*_

Gavin opened his eyes but he didn’t look over.

* ** _Knockknockknockknockknockknockknock_** _*_

_Go away._

**_*Knockknockknockknockknockknockknock_ ** _*_

_Just go the fuck away._

* ** _Knockknockknockknock… knock… knock…_** _*_

There was a long silence. Gavin let out a huff of breath.

 _Yeah_. That’s what he thought.

He closed his eyes. Everything was quiet. He could hear the hum of his fridge, the muffled of an argument drifting down from the flat above, the far off wail of a police siren. And footsteps. They were soft, and muted, but in the relative silence of the flat, they were like gunshots.

The footsteps stopped in front of him. Gavin didn’t open his eyes.

Then there was a tentative touch, achingly warm, smooth fingers on the sides of his face, making him jolt and open his eyes. He looked up and Nines looked down, pale grey eyes unblinking, unmoving. He didn’t say a word and neither did Gavin. They just stared at each other, Nines’s hand frozen on the coarse and bristly outline of Gavin’s face. Gavin closed his eyes and drew back, away from the warmth, trying to mentally compose himself into yelling, into telling Nines that he shouldn’t pick his locks. That he shouldn’t touch him like this.

But the anger just wasn’t coming. Gavin was tired.

The hands moved, no longer hovering an inch before his face, but moving to his shoulders, gripping firmly and pulling him up. Gavin had to look at him then, had to glare, had to at least _try_ to struggle and move away. Nines softened his grip but didn’t let go, just staring at Gavin with that stupid blank face and gently but unrelentingly pulling.

Nines didn’t say anything as they moved, he simply lead Gavin to the kitchen and leant him against the counter. He kept a hand on him the whole time, in the centre of his chest, as if to hold him in place while he searched through the cupboards and brought out a plastic bag and some tape.

Gavin had stopped glaring by this point and had stopped trying to wiggle away. He just watched as Nines released his soft grip on his chest and knelt down. He cut the tape with his teeth, soft brown hair bobbing with his movements, and started layering it over the plastic, creating a watertight seal around Gavin’s arm. He didn’t look up once as he did so, completely focused on ensuring no air could get through.

What was he doing? Why was he doing this? Gavin tried to figure it out in his head. He tried to understand what the android could possibly gain from this. Nines stood up, once more towering over him. Gavin looked up an Nines looked down. Then, gently, he placed his hands on Gavin’s shoulders again, turning him around and guiding him towards his bedroom.

Gavin didn’t get it. Why was he doing this?

He sat down on the edge of his bed as Nines turned and walked into the bathroom, switching on the shower to heat up and searching for something. Gavin stared after him, lips parted and brow furrowed. He should tell him to leave. He should tell him to fuck off and never come back. He was just doing this because Gavin had been helping him. He only wanted to keep his ‘ _teacher’_ from being eaten alive by mould. The smiles weren’t real. _This_ wasn’t real. Gavin would tell him when he came back. He would tell him that this was fake and _Nines_ was fake. That all this was just a pretence at feeling and he should stop.

Nines came back in. Gavin didn’t say a word. Instead he leaned forward as Nines knelt before him again, bringing one hand to his face to keep it steady.

…What was he doing?

There was a click and a sudden whirring sound as Nines brought up Gavin's electric shaver and held it to his jaw. Gavin held still, eyes wide, never looking away as Nines’s focus dropped to his chin, clearing away the hair there; not too close, not too far. Just perfect.

His hands were warm, leaving traces over his skin like the tail ends of comets. Gavin was still frowning down at him but he remained quiet. He simply held still and let Nines bring the shaver and his burning fingers across his jaw and tilting it up to better access his throat. Gavin tensed and those hands stopped moving, but only for a moment, only long enough for Gavin to let out a long breath, to remind himself that this was Nines and, _for some reason_ , to relax. The hands moved again and Gavin stared up at the lights dotted in his bedroom ceiling, at the way they filled the room with blindingly bright light. He closed his eyes and swallowed dryly.

The hands pulled away and it took Gavin a moment to open his eyes and look down. Nines’s LED was circling blue and yellow but his face was expressionless. He abruptly stood up and moved back.

“You wash up, I’ll tidy the place,” he said, voice quiet and soft.

The spell was broken. Gavin’s face flushed an ugly red.

“You don’t have to pretend to-” Gavin cut himself off and looked away. “You don’t have to do that,” he muttered.

“I know,” Nines simply said. “But I will.”

He turned around and left, gently shutting the door behind him, leaving Gavin sat on his bed and staring at that closed door like it had all the answers in the world.

 

* * *

 

Being clean made a difference. Gavin was still in pain, things were still shit and nothing was _fixed_ exactly, but he felt better. He looked at his reflection in the fogged up mirror, at the wet hair plastered across his forehead and the stubble lining his jaw. He still looked tired and he still looked ill, but he also looked like himself.

Gavin quietly surveyed his reflection a moment longer before leaving the bathroom. There, he stopped short. The bed sheets had been changed. No longer was there the balled up mess of creases and sweat he’d grown familiar with. No, Nines had changed it for that novelty bed spread Tina gave him a few Christmases back. The one covered in red, blue, yellow and green dots, like a game of Twister. He’d also laid out a set of clothes. They were warm to the touch. Like they’d just been done.

He-

Uh.

Gavin turned away and picked up his sling. That was clean too. He tried not to think about it. Or the fact that there was a disposable heating pad laid out next to it.

He failed.

Where on Earth had Nines even found that?! Gavin didn’t own any heating pads. Did he go to the shops? How _long_ had Gavin been in the shower?

By this point, Gavin’s last shreds of dignity were but a distant dream. He still didn’t take the heating pad. Instead, with his teeth, he ripped off the plastic bag around his cast then speedily pulled on the clean clothes and sling. The carpet was still grimy under his bare feet. Apparently Nines hadn’t had time to do **everything**. This made Gavin feel a bit better somehow, but he still hesitated when leaving the bedroom, hand hovering over the door handle before he sucked up a sharp, bracing breath and went out to face the music.

It was cold. The windows were open, letting in a bitingly crisp but clean smelling autumnal wind. The sofa was bare, stripped of cover and cushions, and a vacuum stood tall in the middle of the living room. Exie was trying to climb it.

“The floor in here was not that bad,” came Nines’s voice from the kitchen. “You kept the litter trays clean as well.”

Nines turned around when Gavin didn’t answer, a plate in one hand, a towel in the other. His jacket was gone, carefully folded up on one of the bar stools, leaving his severe looking black shirt on display. Cyberlife had probably designed it to look imposing, what with its high collar and utilitarian cut, but Nines had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and there were soap bubbles on his stomach. He stared at Gavin over the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen, silently waiting for Gavin’s response.

“L- like I was gonna let those fluffy fuckers be all miserable,” Gavin huffed, giving a nonchalant shrug and instantly regretting it when his collarbone flared with pain.

Nines nodded at that and turned his attention back to the dishes. Gavin edged closer.

“I put most of your laundry in the wash downstairs. I did a few by hand though. I also found an electric shaver online with a much narrower handle. The link is up on your laptop. I... I hope I haven’t overstepped my boundaries too much.”

He had. He really had. But Gavin didn’t say that. He just sat himself down on one of the stools at the counter (the one that Nines usually sat on during their games) and waited for him to finish. Kit jumped up onto the counter and meowed loudly, clearly instructing Gavin to commence the daily pet. Gavin’s lips twitched up into a fond, if tired, smile and he happily obliged.

All there was to be heard over the next few minutes, was Kit’s motorboat purrs and the clinks and clatters of Nines washing the dishes. Gavin didn’t know what his face was doing as he stared at Nines’s back. Nines looked different like this…softer, realer somehow.

Gavin turned his gaze away and focused on petting Kit, trying not to worry about the stiff movements of his bloated fingers and failing. He should- he would book a doctors appointment, and soon.

A few minutes later, Kit, finally sated in his gluttonous need for attention, gave one last trilling chirp, shook off Gavin’s hand and jumped down from the counter. Gavin stared after him, then looked back as Nines pulled out the bar stool and took a seat.

“You… didn’t have to do this. I’d still help you, even if I- if this place was a mess.”

“That’s not why I did it.”

Oh.

Gavin’s eyes fell to his cast, at the perfectly dry plaster and his skin, red and irritated beneath it. He looked back up at Nines who was staring at his hand, LED yellow, probably looking up inflammation on WebMD.

“Nines,” said Gavin, interrupting his search before he could get to the cancer section. The LED span back to blue and Nines looked up. Gavin didn’t say anything. He couldn’t think of what to say.

He smiled.

Slowly, hesitantly, Nines smiled back. His eyes didn’t crinkle, his cheeks didn’t dimple and his teeth didn’t flash. It was simply a small upturn to the corners of his mouth and a soft look in his eyes.

“….Haven’t seen that one before. Where’d you get it?” Gavin asked.

“I don’t think I got it from anywhere.”

“Oh,” Gavin said, intelligently. He cleared his throat and grabbed the stack of cards Nines had left out on the counter.

Nines’s smile grew and they settled into a game.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson: Hobbies


	8. Lesson 6: Hobbies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tina is apparently the best, Gavin’s boundaries are (somewhat) respected and Nines plays the piano with his mouth.

* * *

  

Tina was the best. It was a conclusion Gavin had reached many years ago, back when he first started at the precinct and she had helped him patch up after a beat gone wrong. She had ignored his bitter jibes and attempts to wrestle her off, and instead had set to balancing five donuts on his head while he was leant forwards with a nosebleed. It was a conclusion that had continued to be solidified over the years when she never failed to greet him in the mornings and listened to his bitching without complaint. It was bolstered by her quiet kindness, a silly sense of humour and a shared love for crap TV. 

Today, it was a conclusion that was only further cemented when she didn’t ask about the new cast encasing his arm, if he was feeling better, or how he managed to turn down the dial on his hot mess o’meter. She just smiled, elbowed him in the non-injured ribs, and demanded her bet winnings.

The rest of the morning had consisted of gossip, bad TV and food. Most of the afternoon followed in that fashion too. It was only when he was leaving, that this changed. She put a Tupperware box with a slice of cake on the top of his head and beamed up at him like he wasn’t the (fabulous) bastard he knew he was.

“Whatever you’re doing, Gav, it’s working. Keep it up,” she had said.

Gavin thought about that the whole taxi ride back. Or, at least, he tried to think about it, to figure out everything going on in his head. The only problem was that Gavin Reed’s head was a mess at the best of times. Now it was a convoluted mess. Nines was just a bag of bolts and a bit of a jerk. He bumbled around with all the social grace of a sheep in skis and had been all but forcing him to act as some sort of fucked up mentor… And he had just helped him _again_. He didn’t have to, but he had… Fuck, how much was Gavin going to owe that guy by the end of this?

It didn’t help that, when he finally scaled the never ending staircase up to his flat, Nines was waiting outside his door. Gavin made a strange noise. It started as a sharp, surprised inhale at the fact that Nines was just standing there like a freak, eyes latched onto the space he would appear in. Then, halfway through, it caught in his chest and turned into a resigned sigh. It had been two days now. Of course Nines would be back. He always came back.

Nines straightened up slightly, brushing some invisible speck of dust from his pristine jacket. Gavin’s eyes followed the movement, before falling on the neatly sewn black patch where RK900 had once been emblazoned. He cleared his throat and glanced away.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hello, Gavin,” Nines returned.

There was another pause.

“… How long you been waitin' here?” Gavin asked, glancing at the locked door of his flat then back to Nines again.

“Two hours, twenty one minutes and sixteen seconds.”

_What the hell?_

“Two hours,” Gavin repeated before slowly lifting his right hand to pinch his brow. Yep, there was his dumbass. “Why didn’t you text me or something?”

“You never gave me your number.”

“Like that would stop you,” Gavin grumbled before fishing out his keys and phone from his pocket. He passed Nines the phone and went to unlock the flat. “Knock yourself out.”

Gavin glanced over as he opened the door, just in time to see Nines’s skin form back over his white plastic hand. He looked away.

“Why _didn’t_ you text me?” He asked over his shoulder, shoving his shoes off and dropping the bag of leftovers on the living room coffee table.

“You were spending time with your friend. Social interactions are beneficial to humans’ mental health. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

A few days ago, Gavin may have become angry at that point, demanding that Nines explain how the hell he knew he was visiting Tina. Now, he just thought about how Nines was apparently prioritising his health over his oh so important lessons.

“Yeah. Well, next time, don’t wait out here like a lost puppy. Wasn’t that boring?”

“I have no cases and nothing else to do. I was happy to wait.” 

“…You seriously need a hobby.”

Nines didn’t comment and passed Gavin back his phone. Gavin opened it up, glancing at the contact Nines had made. It simply read:

**Nines RK900**.

Gavin rolled his eyes but didn’t comment on the boring contact name, or the fact that Nines still hadn’t chosen a real surname. Instead he made his way into the kitchen and set to putting the bag of food away. He could hear Nines’s step behind him. His stomach twisted.

_He owed him. He owed him yet again._

“You have been tidying,” Nines commented, breaking into Gavin’s thoughts. He had followed him into the kitchen and was doing a fine job of getting  in the way as Gavin tried to open the fridge.

“It's only been two fu- ugh- it’s only been _two_ days,” Gavin huffed, shoving him lightly with his good shoulder to get him out the way. “I’m not _that_ much of a pig.”

“Your right arm looks better as well.”

“Yeah, well, turns out I carried too much stuff or knocked it or something; split a bit of it open again. Doctor really laid into me then redid the whole thing.”

Nines didn’t comment. They both fell into silence as Gavin’s stood in front of the open cupboard, trying to think of what to say and how to say it.

“Nines…” his voice trailed off. He couldn’t say it. Fuck, it was just two words, and only one if he skipped out the ‘you’. It shouldn’t be so hard.

“Gavin.”

“I… uh, you-”

“ **Gavin**.”

Gavin turned around and abruptly burst out into incredulous snorts of laughter. Exie was standing atop a rather nervous looking Nines’s head, looking extremely proud of herself as she surveyed the kitchen. She must have jumped down from the fridge.

Again. 

Even if he had wanted to, Gavin couldn’t have kept the wheezing giggles in. It was as if something around him had broken, a soft humming buzz of awkwardness that Gavin hadn’t been aware of until it was gone. All he could feel was laughter now. Especially when he looked at Nines’s frowning face and how his whole fucking body had gone stiff as a post.

“Stop laughing, I don’t want it to fall.”

“Alright, alright. I’m coming,” he snorted, strolling over and standing on his tiptoes to reach the now purring cat. It was a bit difficult to detach her, especially given how fricking tall Nines was, and the fact that he only had five fingers to do the job. In the end, he did manage it, pulling back out of Nines’s personal space with an armful of complaining cat.

“Thank y- _Gavin_. What are you doing?”

Gavin just smirked as he finished draping Exie round Nines’s shoulders. Both the android and the cat gave him a confused look.

“Exie likes high places. Don’t worry about her falling. She’s a cat, she’ll be fine,” he said, pushing Nines out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

When he came out a few minutes later, coffee in hand, Nines was still standing in the middle of the room, Exie still wrapped around his neck and worried frown _still_ on his face.

“ _Jesus_ , just sit down.”

Nines sat down, with a speed reminiscent of Gavin’s eighty-nine year old grandma. 

Gavin sighed, detached Exie and put her in the idiot’s lap before sitting next to them.

“Scratch her behind the ears. She likes that.”

Nines didn’t move. He stared at the cat, then at Gavin and then back to the cat.

Gavin rolled his eyes and leaned over to pet her, running his fingers down her fur and softly itching at her ears. Slowly, Nines brought up his hands too, smoothing the fur down on her back, but lightly, like she was made of glass or some shit. Exie allowed this for a few moments before growing bored and standing up to face Nines, wiggling her butt in preparation of jumping up once more. It was tempting to let this play out but Gavin figured he’d made Nines uncomfortable enough for one day. He wasn’t a _complete_ bastard. He picked Exie up instead and bowled her onto the carpet where she made a large meow of complaint but skulked off non-the-less, her fluffy black tail held high in the air, revealing a small, circular patch of black fur just beneath.  

Nines watched her sway away, mouth twisted to the side in a contemplative fashion. “Why did you call her Exie?”

It took a few seconds for the question to register but, when it did, the only way to describe Gavin’s answering grin was ‘shit-eating’.

“That’s just her nickname. Her full name is Exclamation Butt.”

Nines turned back to look at Exie as she started clawing her way up the balcony curtains.

“Ah,” he said.

‘ _Ah_? _’_ That was it? Tina had almost pissed herself when she realised. Nines seriously needed to get himself a sense of humour. Though probably not from Gavin. His sense of humour wasn’t exactly ‘nice’ or ‘kind’ or ‘what you should inflict on the poor folks at the precinct’. At least, not from two fronts. Gavin had already filled the station’s quota of shit to be taken, no room for any other fabulously funny arseholes.

He wondered what Nines did find funny. He’d never even seen him laugh before… The strange guilty feeling in the pit of Gavin’s stomach started to grow again.

Nines was now tilting his head to the side, gazing at him with a soft furrow to his brow, and Gavin realised he’d been staring for a while now. In dead silence. Like a creep. Gavin quickly looked away and turned the TV on, finding the first thing he could that was vaguely okay. It was some sort of game show Gavin hadn’t seen before. He dialled down the volume and turned to face Nines again. He couldn’t say thanks but he could at least do _this_.

“You _should_ get a hobby you know.”

Nines, who hadn’t yet looked away from Gavin once during that time, continued to tilt his head.

“Why?”

“… Make sure to break your gaze at least every twenty seconds when you’re talking to someone casual like,” Gavin said, going mentor mode in the face of awkwardness. “Keep staring and it gets weird.”

Nines blinked, glanced at the TV and then back. “Like that?”

“Better. Anyway, _hobbies_. You wanna make friends at work right?”

“… I… that would be… beneficial.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Look if you do stuff, it gives you something to talk about with people. TV works, like me and Tina watch soaps and CatWalk and talk about it all the time. Or like how Anderson listens to metal and watches sports. Or Connor and those fuckin’ animal charities he’s always raising for.”

Nines looked away again, presumably having counted up to twenty. He hummed thoughtfully.

“What do you like?” Gavin prompted when the silence grew too long.

“I like solving cases.”

_You and me both_ , Gavin thought. He didn’t say that though.

“Yeah, this is going nowhere fast. Let’s google it.”

Given the fact that Gavin had been suffering under a severe case of self-imposed isolation for a few weeks now, his laptop had been getting a lot of use. It whirred loudly as he woke it up and shifted the device onto his lap, angling it away from Nines as he hastily shut down a few, uh, less savoury sites.

The TV was wholly forgotten by both Nines and Gavin as he loaded up a new page and got set googling. Nines’s head was practically on top of his as he leaned into his space much more than Gavin would usually be comfortable with. But the memory of Nines with the electric razor in hand and soap bubbles on his belly was still fresh in his mind. Gavin swallowed down his discomfort. He’d lecture about personal space another day.

“So, music’s a common one. Like listening to it and playing it. Could learn something like piano or guitar.”

“I can make those sort of sounds already. I do not need an instrument,” Nines informed him. At Gavin’s confused look, he opened his mouth and demonstrated.

“The fuck,” Gavin said, eloquent as ever, when a burst of high and low pitched piano notes weaved themselves out of Nines’s mouth. Nines stopped and looked back at the laptop, leaning over Gavin to scroll down the website. Gavin didn’t move, still processing what the hell he just saw.

“That was freaky,” he said with no bite. Nines glanced down at him and smiled.

“Uh, so that’s a no to music,” Gavin said, turning back to the screen. “How about that collecting crap? Like rocks or something.”

“You don’t make that option sound particularly appealing. Do you not like the idea?”

Gavin pulled a face, thinking about the gross hoarder houses he had to investigate one time too many. Last one had a guy collecting doll limbs in jars and his own fingernails. “Yeah, well, this isn’t about me. If you wanna collect, you collect.”

Nines thought about it. “Why would I collect rocks?”

“Hell if I know, cause they’re pretty?”

“I don’t want to do that,” Nines decided.

Gavin nodded and looked back at the screen, shifting uncomfortably as Nines leaned in even closer, heat pouring off of him like a radiator.

“How, uh, how about painting? Or knitting?” Gavin paused to smirk at the idea of Nines with knitting needles and a granny cap. “There’s also sports, travelling and dancing.”

Nines’s thoughtful hum reverberated through his chest, sending a soft buzz to Gavin’s skin.

Okay. Gavin was tapping the fuck out. He closed the laptop and shifted away so there was at least a handspan of space between them. Nines didn’t seem to notice, still considering the options Gavin gave.

“I don’t think I am interested in painting or knitting. Sports would be just like music. There is no point doing it, I am already capable.” There was no boasting in his voice, just a clear statement of truth. Gavin would normally have scowled and spat out a cruel, cutting comment but normal didn’t even begin to describe half the things in his life as of late.

“Dancing then?” Gavin asked instead.

“Perhaps. I will think on it. For now, I am happy to spend my time here with you.”

And Gavin literally could not think of a thing to say to that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson:  
> A sense of humour


	9. Lesson 7: A sense of humour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gavin is (unsurprisingly) a tsundere, a bigot is verbally curbstomped and Nines is given his first gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this was one of the most enjoyable chapters to write so far. Did a fair bit of research into this as my own sense of humour is basically puns and dad jokes but hopefully this is where I earn my 'attempt at humour' tag (and where you all learn I am as British as can be with my spelling of humour)
> 
> Bold: Gavin  
> Italics: Nines

* * *

 

[Fri 10:28 am]

**What time you off work today**

 

[Fri 10:28 am]

_Unless there is a case, I finish work at the same time you used to, Gavin. Why are you asking me this?_

 

[Fri 10.31 am]

**Jesus we need to work on your text skills**

 

[Fri 10:31 am]

_What is wrong with how I am texting?_

 

[Fri 10:32 am]

**Your using commas**

**that’s not normal**

[Fri 10:32 am]

**Are you actually texting or is this you just talking into your phone**

 

[Fri 10:33 am]

_Neither. I don’t have a phone._

 

[Fri 10:39 am]

**I’m texting to your brain?!?**

 

[Fri 10:39 am]

_Is there something you wanted to talk about, Gavin?_

 

[Fri 10:41 am]

 **Oh yeah.** **When your done with work if you don’t have any cases or shit I have an idea for your next ‘lesson’**

 

[Fri 10:41 am] 

_You appear to only use punctuation on auto-correct or to be sarcastic. Is this a common theme in your text speech patterns?_

 

[Fri 10:43 am]

**Yes**

 

[Fri 10:43 am]

_What was your idea?_

 

[Fri 10:44 am]

**Meet me at 8 at 2100 michigan ave**

**Don’t look it up ta a surprise**

 

[Fri 10:46 am]

***its**

 

[Fri 11.01 am]

_Alright. I will see you there at eight, Gavin._

[Fri 11.03 am]

**Cool**

 

[Fri 11:04 am]

**And stop using commas**

 

* * *

 

It was raining when Gavin’s taxi arrived at Cody’s Comedy Cellar. The neon lights lit up the surrounding rain as it fell in sheets, making the droplets glow like a meteorite shower but in Barbie pink. If Gavin were a more poetic sort of man, he may have thought this and perhaps have compared the sound of the rain hitting the taxi roof to the loud crushing rush of ocean waves on a pebble beach, or the thunderous applause of a really frickin’ huge audience. But he wasn’t. He just thought it was loud, and that he was gonna get wet. Really wet.

“You have now reached your destination. Thank you for travelling with Detroit Taxis,” chimed out the taxi, opening the doors and letting the spray of rain in. Gavin grimaced and didn’t move, peering out onto the sidewalk to where a groups of lucky umbrella wielders made their way into the building. He would have to make a run for it.

“You have now reached your destination. Thank you for travelling with Detroit Taxis,” repeated the taxi in a pleasant tone. Gavin rolled his eyes and geared  himself up for running out of the taxi, only to pause as he noticed the figure approaching the vehicle.

“Hey Nines,” Gavin greeted, straightening out the thin leather jacket draped over his shoulders and stepping out into the rain.

“Good evening, Gavin,” said Nines. He walked forward, closer to Gavin so that his umbrella covered both of them. He smiled as Gavin rolled his eyes.

“Nothing good about it,” Gavin snarked, shivering as a gust of wet wind swelled and battered at him, catching at his jacket and making the rain-slick sleeves slap heavily at his sides. Nines didn’t move an inch, but he did look around as if suddenly realising the weather wasn’t all sunshine and blue skies.

“We should go in. I believe this is what you wanted to do tonight,” Nines said, waving the hand that wasn’t holding the umbrella in the direction of the comedy club.

Gavin scratched his nose and shrugged. “Figured you’d want to learn how to tell jokes. My kinda humour is... well, you’d probably learn more here.”

What Gavin didn’t say was that he was hoping this would help make up for what happened last week: for Nines having to- no- _choosing_ to dig him out of the pile of shit he’d buried himself in, for Nines helping him yet again despite him having no real reason to. Other than the fact that apparently he was just that nice. Nines didn’t seem to notice his unspoken thanks or, if he did, he didn’t mention it. He just nodded and started walking towards the club, his pace slow so Gavin could keep up with his long strides.

The air was hot and wet inside. Artificial rain fell in short sharp sprinkles as people put down their umbrellas and shook off their coats. Everyone was chattering happily, some laughing, some smiling, all there with friends and family. Nines and Gavin stood next to each other at the entrance, neither saying a word.

Gavin coughed. “I’ll, uh, go get the tickets.”

“How much should I contribute?”

“Nah, it’s fine. I already paid,” Gavin muttered, waving him off and looking away.

“…Then I will go get you something to eat,” Nines returned, and before Gavin could even start to protest, Nines had walked off to the confectionery stand.

 _Goddammit_. This was supposed to be about Gavin saying thanks, and there went Nines again being all kind and shit when it was _Gavin’s_ turn at playing nice for fucking once. Not that Gavin was any good at being ‘nice’. But still, he was trying.

He queued up to get the tickets, right hand shoved in his pocket as far as it would go and left foot drumming a tense beat on the wooden floor. The man in front turned around to give Gavin a look. Gavin kept on tapping, just staring blandly back before abruptly grinning and giving him a dirty wink. The man quickly turned back around, shoulders up to his ears and Gavin looked elsewhere, bored. It was only when his eyes fell on the bits of tit and tat for sale on the counter that the foot-drumming stopped. He glanced around to check Nines wasn’t back yet, spotting him in the rather large line for snacks and drinks, waiting patiently. Before Gavin could second guess himself, he walked to the counter and picked up one of the phone charms there. There were a few comedy themed ones, like a microphone and a tiny yellow banana skin, but it was the little silver cat that caught Gavin’s attention. Gavin took it with him to the counter and bought it along with a program.

Nines was waiting for him at the door to the small theatre room, bag of popcorn in one hand and cardboard cup of coke in the other. He fell in step with Gavin as he led them to their table near the front. Just a few yards away from the main stage. It was hard getting there; the place was filling up and fast. The show must’ve been about to start. Gavin had to dodge out of the way of at least three elbows, six miss-placed bags and four abruptly shoved out chairs. 

Nines pulled out a chair for Gavin before taking his on the right. He leaned back and crossed his legs before nudging the popcorn towards Gavin. Gavin ignored it for the moment, instead pulling out the little silver cat he bought and putting it in front of Nines before he could get the chance to overthink it. He _was_ being nice tonight. See. This was him being nice.

Nines stared at it, then at Gavin.

“You said you have you phone in your head right? Figured you’d need a charm,” he said, already regretting his decision to give the cheap lump of metal to Nines. Fuck this was embarrassing. He wished Nines were human so he could just buy him a drink and call them even. Androids don’t drink though. So he had to think outside the box.  

Well, he didn’t _have_ to. He, uh, wanted to.

“Thank you, Gavin,” Nines said, picking up the charm and turning it over in his hand. Gavin stared at it and suddenly realised why it had called out to him now. The little cat was almost the exact same shade of silver-grey as Nines’s eyes.

“Whatever,” Gavin muttered, hunching his shoulders. “It’s just a bit of tat. Don’t read into it.”

Nines considered his words and seemed to take them at face value, nodding seriously. Gavin’s lips twisted and he let out a tight breath. Shit, he didn’t mean it like that. He opened his mouth to probably put his foot in it. Then the lights dimmed and the people around them started to cheer and clap.

_Too late._

The first comedian of the night waltzed onto the stage, all smiles and laughter. He was okay: made fun of a few celebrities and politicians and did a rather funny impression of the President. The electronic screen behind him mimicked the Oval Office as he waltzed around and gave overly stilted grins. Gavin turned to Nines and silently pointed out his name on the program. Unfortunately, Nines swiftly became much more interested in reading the information there than listening to the comedian rant about trains. Gavin kicked him softly under the table when he didn’t look up for several minutes.

“You can read that later,” he hissed.

The next comedian was good too. Again, a lot of jokes about politicians but Gavin liked her spiel about how terrifyingly boring hospitals were. That got a few chuckles from him. Nines watched attentively but did not laugh.

It was only when she waved off the crowd and the third comedian came out that things started to go wrong. He was similarly thin and gangly to the first but a lot older than the last one. If Gavin had thought to guess, he probably would’ve gone with mid forties or fifties. He definitely had a curl of grey running through his beard, and rather old-fashioned hipster glasses perched on a short, snouty nose.

“Hello, ladies, gentlemen and walking mobile,” he greeted, waving both hands at the crowd. There were a few brief looks at Nines and a few titters. Gavin’s smile dropped. He glanced at Nines who was quietly frowning up at the stage. Gavin couldn’t see his LED from this angle but there was a faint glow of yellow and blue outlining Nines’s face.

“Boy, things've really gone to the crapper the last year or so, huh? Been in Detroit before, a few years back and I’ve gotta say… you’ve got a real bad deal. I mean, the pigeons are fucking everywhere. What are you guys feeding them? Viagra?”

There was a bit more laughter, mainly from the back. The comedian grinned, emboldened by the sound of it, and picked up the microphone to walk across the stage, closer to his audience.

“But seriously, now. Android revolutions? Back in my day, the only androids we had around was the phone. Hands up if you had one of those fuckers.” A small smattering of hands went up. Gavin used to have one back when he was a kid but he didn’t put his hand up. The comedian didn’t seem to mind the muted response.

“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t admit it either. But hey I’m a comedian, here to be laughed at so I’ll admit to having owned one. Worst fucking mistake in my life. It kept interrupting me all the time with updates and glitching out. Recently, I decided to upgrade it, get rid of those 99 problems and replace them with 100 instead.”

There was less laughter this time. Not everyone got the joke and many of those who did (Gavin) didn’t find it that funny.

Undaunted, the comedian continued: “I heard it hasn’t gotten better in recent years either. They got another upgrade but _now_ the phones’ll kick you in the teeth and start a revolution.”

From the corner of his eye, Gavin saw Nines glance down at the phone charm in his hand.

 _Shit_.

“Everything’s so fast now, it’s run by computers though, so that makes sense. It’s hard to keep up. Especially with the end of the world looming. But I hear the president has a plan though. It’s rather foolproof or, heh, phone proof.”

Behind him on the screen came a picture of a fake missile launch button in the Oval Office. An old-school robot captcha popped up underneath it.

“Do you want to end the world?” The comedian snorted out. “Click all the pictures with a sign post if yes.”

That was enough.

“I’d say that joke’s so old it belongs in a museum but I think they’ve got enough fossilised crap!”

Heads turned towards Gavin, a few snickers ran through the room. He caught Nines’s eye as he stared at him with blank- faced surprise, and winked, his teeth now bared into a shark-like grin.

“Hoah!” Exclaimed the comedian turning to face Gavin. He looked excited, like he’d been hoping for some kind of response to liven up his dying routine.  “A _heckler_ , haven’t had one of those in days. Right man, give me your best shot.”

Gavin’s toothy grin grew, almost reaching his ears, but, before he could get even one venom-laced word out, Nines cleared his throat and spoke up.

“I would say go for the head but who needs your best shot when the target is so big?” He asked, crossing his arms and exchanging a quick, equally toothy smile with Gavin.

Gavin returned it with a barking peal of surprised but delighted laughter, before turning back to smirk at the flushed comedian.

“Woah there, droid. Am I pushing your buttons?” The comedian sneered.

”Just the one. I even may let you do it: Self-destruction looks pretty tempting in the face of your act.”

There was laughter from the audience, much louder than anything the comedian had produced yet. And he knew it.

“Wow, did it take you two seconds or five to google that joke?” The comedian returned with a jeer, face red with irritation.

Gavin didn’t even need to look at Nines for his reaction. It was obvious he had looked it up just as it was obvious by his sudden silence that this taunt had upset him.

“Obviously spent longer on it than you. What ancient website did you dredge that crap up from? 4chan?”

“Hey, no one asked you, charity act,” the comedian snarled, loosing his cool somewhat.

Nines’s expression darkened but Gavin didn’t notice, too busy snorting and letting out a low whistle.

“Wow, God sure wasted a perfectly good arsehole when he put teeth in your mouth,” Gavin grinned, making a clunky jerk off motion with his plaster encased hand. Several more members of the audience started to laugh.

“I believe that explains why he has been speaking shit all night,” joined in Nines, fixing the man with a steely look.

“Stick a plunger down there, think that’d solve at least one of his problems.”

“Ooh! Talk shit: get hit? Is that the best you can do?” The comedian heckled back, obviously trying and failing to get control back of the show.

“Oh, think you know better, huh? Go ahead and tell us all your good jokes. Think I’ve got, uh, ten second to spare,” sniped Gavin, miming looking at a nonexistent watch on his caste.

“He shouldn’t feel bad if he has time left over. A lot of people don’t have talent,” Nines commented, voice loud enough to carry across the room but still coming off as airy and unconcerned. Gavin beamed. What a sarcastic asshole of a comment. He had never felt prouder.

“I don’t think so,” Gavin chuckled. ”Should’ve seen the signs. Bet when he told his parents he wanted to be a comedian, they laughed. Well, no one’s laughing now.”

But they were laughing. The audience was laughing a lot. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” said the comedian turning away from them and facing the tittering crowd with a shaky smile. “So-”

“Shh, just let everyone think you’re an idiot. If you try and speak, you’ll just prove them right!” Gavin called out, not wanting to let him off the hook that easily. 

“Excuse me sir, I’m going to have to ask you two to leave.”

 Gavin blinked, coming back to himself. The red haze, that had been blinkering out the edges of his vision the last three minutes or so, faded. All that he could see now were the uncomfortable glances the audience were sending him and, oh yeah, the hulking security guard looming over their table. A flush of embarrassment crawled up his neck. He glanced at Nines who stared back, expressionless and blank-faced but for his wide eyes…

To hell with this. To hell with dignity. If he was going out, he may as well do it with style.

Abruptly, he stood up, his chair clattering loudly behind him. He gave Nines a quick wink, threw the gaping bastard-of-a-comedian a finger gun kissy face combo, and bowed to the audience with a grossly overdramatic flair of his arm. A few of them even clapped as Gavin was picked up the scruff of his neck and hauled out of the nearest fire exit.

The doors slammed behind them and rain slammed down from above. The laughter and cheers were cut off now. All there was to be heard was the sounds of the storm. Then the soft click and a whoosh of an umbrella being put up. Nines silently held it out above Gavin’s head, face impassive but for the faint upwards quirk to his lips. Gavin stared at him, at the rain dribbling off his straight set nose, and the slowly forming damp patch on the shoulders of his stupid white coat.

Gavin started to laugh. “Get under too, idiot.”

The laughter only grew as Nines stepped forward and Gavin finally took in what the hell just happened.

“Oh shit. We got thrown out. Actually got thrown out of a fuckin’ comedy show!” He spluttered out before grinning up at Nines like a rain splattered loon. “And you! _Man!_ I didn’t know you had it in you!”

He gave Nines a light punch on the shoulder. Nines looked down at his shoulder then back to Gavin. Hesitantly, he lifted his fist too and softly tapped his knuckles to Gavin’s bicep. It was like being punched by a kitten and it made Gavin start giggling all over again. That is until he caught himself and gave a manly cough instead.

“Well, uh, you passed on humour with an A-star. That bit about self-destruction? That was awesome,” he crowed, turning around and walking with Nines out of the side alley they found themselves in and onto the main road. Gavin considered calling a taxi for a moment before shrugging off the thought. His place wasn’t _too_ far; he didn’t mind walking.

“The comedian was correct though, Gavin. I looked that joke up. It was from a clip of the android CA 200, or Calvin Adey, on his most recent comedy tour.”

Gavin’s amused grin faded as Nines looked away, shoulders held high and lips set in a line. They both walked in silence for a few moments, the rain hammering loudly on the skin of Nines’s umbrella, and bouncing up from the water slicked sidewalk. Dampness oozed up Gavin’s trouser cuffs, clinging to his skin and sending a chill up his legs. He cleared his throat.

“Well, that’s about the only thing he’ll get right all night then,” Gavin said with a one shouldered shrug. Nines raised his gaze from his feet to Gavin’s face. “Anyway, you’re not the only one to do that. I got some of those jokes from other people. That guy got his jokes from a junk heap. It’s fine. It’s how you learn.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, don’t thank me. I was the one who got us chucked out. And about the bigot... look, I didn’t know about him. Not the, uh, nicest of surprises huh?”

“That’s alright, Gavin. I found insulting that man with you to be… oddly enjoyable,” Nines nodded to himself, his slightly unsure tone melting away into confidence and an assured smile. “I look forward to any future surprises you decide to share."

Gavin didn’t say anything to that. Instead he companionably bumped his shoulder into Nines’s as they walked off into the rainy night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson:  
> Teamwork


	10. Lesson 8: Teamwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gavin is nervous, Nines is stressed and Crash Bandicoot makes a cameo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song- The sky is a neighborhood by the Foo Fighters. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRqiFPpw2fY
> 
> Slight spoiler for this chapter:  
> In this run of the game it was mostly pacifist but Connor forced an interface with Carlos’s android, making him self destruct in front of Gavin. So Gavin thinks red LEDs= bad and self-destruction
> 
> (p.s. Sorry for this chapter being a bit shorter. I'll try and put up the next chapter a bit earlier to make up for it :) )

* * *

 

“ ** _Bangin' on the ceiling. Keep it down._** ** _The sky is a neighborhood._** ”

Gavin muttered along to the old song belting out of his phone, sweeping up the last of the kitty litter into the dustpan and dumping it in the bin. He thumped the dustpan on the bin twice more with the best of the song before turning back to the litter-box to refill it.

**“ _Heart is a storybook_**.” **_*_** _Knock *****_ “ ** _A star burned out.” *_** _Knock knock *** “Something coming up ahead.”**_

Gavin frowned, hand stilling on the edge of the plastic box. Did he just hear something? 

**_“Don’t-” *_** _Knock *** “-look now!**_ ”

“Music off,” he called, shrugging off his glove and dumping it in the bin as the song stopped. The sudden hush was all the louder for the music that had been playing moments before. Gavin frowned, wondering if he imagined it. Then:

* _Knock_ *

There was only two people he could think of who would want to visit him but both of them were at work right now and neither knocked like that. Before going to the door, Gavin picked up the metal bat he kept by the TV and gripped it as best as he could with his plaster cast in the way. There was another quiet knock as Gavin crept closer to the door, bat balanced on the crook of his neck. Slowly, he peered through the peephole.

“For _fucksake_ ,” he exhaled, all tension leaving his body in one fell swoop. He dropped the bat behind the door and swung it open.

“The hell are… you…”

Something was wrong. Nines had his head tilted to his right, eyes trailing over the grain of the doorframe. His body was stiff and his face held that familiar blank expression on it; the one that Nines often wore when he had yet to figure out how to express an emotion.

Gavin didn’t say anything. He just stared at Nines with a stupid, gormless look plastered all over his face.

“…Can I come in?” Nines asked, still not looking at Gavin.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Gavin murmured, stepping to the side. Nines walked in, footsteps hushed, and Gavin caught sight of his LED.

It was red.

**“I’m done here.”**

**“What the fuck is it doing?”**

**“It’s destroying itself…”**

**“Stop it goddammit!”**

“-rry for arriving earlier than expected,” Nines was saying, standing in the middle of his living room, glancing around in a vague way.

“It’s… okay.”

“Captain Fowler insisted that I leave work early today,” Nines continued on, still not looking at Gavin. “I wanted to start working on a new case, but he insisted it was procedure.”

Oh. That- yeah, that explained it. Gavin wondered what sort of case it had been and what could have been bad enough for Fowler to personally step in. But it didn’t really explain why Nines was _here_.

“You, uh, want a beer or something?” Gavin asked, before remembering that androids couldn’t drink. Idiot. _Idiot_. Still, it sort of did the trick; Nines finally looked at him.

“Androids do not gain any benefits from consuming alcohol,” he stated.

Crap, he was back to the ‘do not’s.

“Uh,” Gavin stalled, looking around. “Sit down, I’ll get some TV on.”

That didn’t work either. Nines did sit down but his LED was still a worrying shade, even as the dancing celebrities did a clumsy can-can that resulted in a high heal flying into the face of one of the judges. Gavin laughed, it was fake, obviously so, but Nines didn’t notice. He just stared at the screen, blank and unmoving.

_Fuck_ , okay, this wasn’t working. Nines was still stuck in his head. He didn’t get distracted by mindlessly watching things. Gavin should have realised that by now. Nines learned by doing. He was always thinking, always moving, following some kind of purpose or goal. He need to focus on something that required, well, focus. And, just like that, a lightbulb flickered on over Gavin’s head.

“Gimme a sec,” he said, unconsciously patting Nines on the shoulder before standing up and rummaging around the draws below the TV. Behind him, Gavin could hear a soft creak of the sofa as Nines shifted. Gavin didn’t look around though. Instead, he knelt down and turned on his game station, plugged in a slightly dusty controller and put in the old PS game he just found. It was only then that he looked around.

Nines was staring down at him, intense and unblinking. Gavin would have said he looked curious but he’d seen Nines curious. This wasn’t it. He didn’t know what it was. He treated it like it was curiosity though.

“I’m betting you’ve never played a video game before,” he said.

Nines thought about it, his red LED mixing with  faint splattering of yellow. Gavin’s heart thumped painfully in his chest.

“No, I have not. Is that the lesson for today?”

Gavin put on another fake grin, ignored the question and patted the carpet next to him. “Controller’s our of charge. Cable doesn’t reach that far so park your butt here.”

He looked back to the game screen, flicking through the main menu and loading up the game. A slither of tension melted from his frame as he heard the sofa springs softly clunk and felt Nines’s arm brush up against his. One of these days, Gavin was going to address the whole personal space issue.

But not today. 

He passed the controller to Nines just as the black screen exploded into a wash of bright colours and vibrant music.

**_“It’s Crash Bandicoot two!"_** The voice-over gleefully announced. _**"Vortex strikes back!”**_

Nines stared at the screen, then slowly turned to face Gavin, who just leaned over and pressed the X on Nines’s controller.

It took less than thirty seconds for Nines to get completely used to the controls and after that the level flew past. When Nines got all the apples and the crystals in the first few levels without even loosing one life, Gavin decided he needed to amp up the distractions.

“You’ve got an unfair advantage,” he said, tapping Nines on the head, just below his red and yellow LED, making him look away from the screen. Even looking at Gavin, his hands still moved and Crash managed to dodge forwards, jumping away from the dynamite explosions and spinning into the pogo stick wielding, straight jacket clad dog.

“You need a handicap.”

“What sort of handicap?” Nines asked, finishing off the boss with one last spin.

 “Me,” Gavin smirked.

 

* * *

 

Gavin only had one controller. With his left arm out of commission, Gavin took the right side of it while Nines took the left. Sat this way, Gavin was _way_ into Nines’s personal bubble, practically plastered up to his side but he didn’t think Nines minded. His LED was mostly yellow now with only the odd flash of red. Better, but not there yet.

It took about ten seconds for Gavin to ruin Nines’s deathless winning streak. He grinned unapologetically when Nines frowned at him. They re-spawned and started running.

“Jump,” Nines said, and this time they cleared the canyon gap. They still lost a life that round, but it was further on this time.

“Press the square Gavin, that was the circle.”

“I’m pressing, I’m pressing. You know you don’t _have_ to get all the fruit.”

“I know,” said Nines but he still circled Crash back around to the un-crushed box. Gavin snorted and made Crash face plant on the boxes.

They played like this for a while, Nines giving instructions and Gavin fucking them up nine times out of ten. With how close they were sat, it was hard to see what was going on with Nines’s LED, but he felt less tense now, he had an expression back on his face (mostly frowns but Gavin would take what he could get) and he was talking more.

“This game is not factually accurate.”

“Heh, no shit.”

“This character looks nothing like a eastern barred bandicoot.”

“Yeah, that’s cause he was made in a lab by the big head guy,” Gavin said without thinking.

Nines’s hands jolted and Crash ran headfirst into a wall.

Uh. Okay. Ixnay on the ablay. Gavin could roll with that. Their character respawned and they continued playing. 

“What’s the real bandicoot look like then?”

“… It was a small nocturnal mammal that weighed less than two kilograms and had a short tail, an extended nose and three to four whitish bars across the rump,” Nines murmured, rushing Crash forward across several a slippery ice platforms.

That was definitely from Wikipedia. There was no way that wasn’t from Wikipedia. Gavin decided to focus on the more pressing issue though:

“Who says ‘ _rump_ ’? It’s ‘ _ass’_ , or maybe ‘butt’ if you’re a kid. Not _rump_.”

“Jump, Gavin,” was all that Nines said to that, but Gavin could hear the smile in his voice. Maybe. He looked up. Crash fell into a hole, but he didn’t care.

It _was_ a smile.

Gavin leaned back a bit and glanced at Nines LED. He let out a soft exhale at the blue colour, then turned to face the screen again.

“So… you wanna talk?” He asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone, helping Crash jump up to another platform.

Nines didn’t say anything for a long time, simply pressing the buttons on the controller and staring at the screen. He didn’t tense up though and his face didn’t go blank again. Gavin quickly turned his attention back to the game just in time to avoid loosing their last life.

“… I don’t think I do,” said Nines so quietly that, had Gavin not still been listening out for his reply, he would have missed it. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” said Gavin, clicking down on another button and spinning Crash into a large tower of boxes. “That’s fine.”

Nines shifted slightly, looking away from the game, drawing Gavin’s attention away from it too. He was smiling down at him. It was the small one, the one he created himself. Gavin grinned back and let go of the controller to ruffle his hair, wholly uncaring of Crash’s tragic demise on the screen as Nines frowned and gently batted him off, trying in vain to put his messed up hair back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson:  
> Small talk


	11. Lesson 9: Small talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a dark past comes to light, Nines can’t do small talk and Gavin’s tombstone shall read ‘death by second-hand embarrassment’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of work place bullying and past (unintentional) non-con.

* * *

 

Screams of steamers and the low seated groans of coffee bean grinders filled the air, along with a soft buzz of chatter and the clinking clatter of cups and cutlery. Gavin hardly noticed any of it, too busy trying to talk around a mouthful of chicken, bread and avocado.

“So never?” He asked, before swallowing it down with a large gulp of coffee.

“There _are_ some androids who can consume drinks and food. I myself can take in small quantities of non-thirium liquids. But there is no point; it’s just for show. The substances also have to be removed later which is… irritating.”

Gavin smiled to himself behind another sip of coffee. About a month back, Nines probably would’ve said ‘inconvenient’ or ‘time consuming’ there. Opinions were a big part of being a person (in Gavin’s opinion at least.) He was quietly glad Nines was getting more comfortable sharing them.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged before changing the topic. “So how’s the hobby hunting going? Video games keeping you busy?”

Nines hummed and leaned forward on the table, shifting his weight in a way that would put most humans at ease. Gavin eyed the movement semi-approvingly. To be honest, he had already gotten used to the way Nines kept himself still for long periods of time. But Nines has insisted that he wanted to learn how to sit like a human, so Gavin had taught him. (Not that he was the best teacher in this regard. He knew just enough to know Nines shouldn’t copy him.)

“I found some of the games you lent me momentarily interesting, but I confess they didn’t engage me for long.”

“Didn’t have your handicap to slow you down, eh? Makes it less fun,” Gavin chuckled, taking the last bite of his sandwich.

“Perhaps you are correct,” Nines conceded, head tilting to the side, causing his LED to catch the reflection of one the café lights.

“...Hey Nines, why’d you keep your LED?” Gavin paused and quickly backtracked. “I mean, I don’t think it’s a good idea to get rid of it. But, I dunno, if you had, it could’ve made blending in with people more easy.”

Gavin looked up at the LED, at the calm circle of blue lazily spinning in Nines’s temple, then glanced back to Nines’s eyes as they bored a hole in his face.

“I did remove it once,” he said in a flat tone, no longer shifting or fidgeting in the way he had been doing the last half an hour. “It was before I joined the central station, when I was in the eighth. I found it… worse. Most knew what I was anyway, what with my resemblance to Connor. But, for those few who didn’t, they knew there was something different about me but with no sign of what it was, there was no excuse to them.”    

Gavin put down his coffee, the clink of it somehow deafeningly loud, despite the wall of noise surrounding them. “Oh. Right, so-”

“Why did _you_ say it wasn’t a good idea to get rid of it?” Nines interrupted, head tilting and body shifting once more, like that moment of stillness had never happened. The loud chatter of the surrounding customers seemed to grow suddenly.

“Dunno,” Gavin shifted and looked away, trying his best not to think about red LEDs and sudden bursts of blue blood, and failing. “I mean, it’s part of you, yeah? Shouldn’t have to give that up.”

Nines didn’t say anything to that and Gavin couldn’t look at him so he didn’t know how he responded. Gavin could _feel_ him staring though.

“Excuse me, is this chair free?”

Gavin glanced around, as did Nines. A woman with a rather familiar face smiled politely at them and pointed at the third chair at their table. It took a moment for Gavin to clock onto why she looked familiar. She had the same face as the android receptionist they used to have in the precinct. She had no LED but Gavin was certain she was the same model. Definitely not the _same_ android (she would have never approached Gavin if that were the case) but, yeah, she was an android. He glanced at Nines who hadn’t said anything, who was just staring at her. Gavin rolled his eyes.

“Knock yourself out,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she beamed, picking it up and going to join a table full of similarly faced woman and one human teenager with a pot of tea before her. Gavin watched them for a few moments, vaguely wondering what the story behind that was before turning back to Nines. He was _still_ staring at her.

“Jeez, don’t you remember what I said about staring?” He asked, making Nines blink twice and turn to him. “Or- wait, does it matter to androids? I mean, is there a different set of rules about what’s cool and what’s not?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Gavin fixed him with a look and waited. Nines blinked again, surveying the group one last time before turning back and focusing on Gavin.

“I haven’t had many opportunities to socialise with androids. Most of those I have met, I have encountered during cases.”

“What about Connor? Must’ve talked to him a few times outside of the job.”

If it were possible for Nines to blush, Gavin was pretty sure he’d do it here. Instead, he gave one of his bright, fake smiles and shook his head. Gavin didn’t say anything. He just waited. Nines’s fake smile dropped and he looked away.

“I made a few mistakes with Connor which have proven... _difficult_ to overcome.”

Well, colour Gavin curious. He knew from the gossip vine (aka Tina) that Connor wasn’t overly fond of Nines, but he had just figured it was just Connor being a little bitch.

“What happened?”

“I...” Nines paused and frowned. “I tried to kill him.”

Well.

Uh.

This wasn’t a conversation Gavin thought he’d be having in a Starbucks. He tried to think of what to say.

“… Join the club,” he eventually settled on, taking an overly casual sip of his drink. By Nines’s lack of reaction, it seemed that he knew about this already. Which made sense; Hank hadn’t exactly kept it on the down low when he found out. Gavin was lucky to still have his teeth after _that_. Hell, he was lucky to have his job. Fowler hadn’t really cared enough to push the inquiry though and just dropped it when Gavin explained his side. Gavin had thought that Connor was up to something bad, Connor resisted arrest and Gavin got the shit beaten out of him. End of story.

Except for the part where Gavin would have totally killed him given the chance and everybody knew it.

It was strange, facing Nines, who looked so much like Connor, Gavin felt a stirring of shame build in his gut. The only thing that made him feel any better was the knowledge that he wouldn’t make a choice like that now. Not now he knew Nines.

“You don’t want to kill him _now_. You’ve got that.”

Nines sharply looked up from his hands. “I never _wanted_ to kill him. I wasn’t deviant then: I had no choice in the matter.”

So, not the same club then…

“Explain that to Connor,” Gavin muttered, looking down at his coffee, fingers tapping along the rim. “I’m sure _he’d_ get it.”

“I tried, when I applied for the central DPD, I approached him again,” Nines paused and glared into space. “I didn’t do it correctly though. I believe I spoke too literally and the method of communication felt inefficient so I attempted to force a connection.”

Once again, Gavin’s mind went back to that interrogation gone wrong, to Connor gripping that android’s cut up arm and forcing himself in, and to what happened next.

“ _Jesus_ ,” he breathed, fingers frozen on the cup. Nines looked down at his hands.

“I wasn’t aware then that such actions could be deemed inappropriate. I thought it only a means of communication. He… did not react well.”

Gavin took a moment to compartmentalise his thoughts on this. Nines was watching him, awaiting his verdict.

“So you learn then,” he shrugged, bullshitting an air of nonchalance into existence. “Let’s call it another lesson. I’ll help you get on with androids and later we’ll work out a way for you to make it up with that asshole.”

Nines’s eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed twice before he gave a faint, almost smile.

“Thank you, Gavin.”

“Yeah, well, don’t thank me yet. Hell if I know the first thing about androids, other than your plastic ass.”

 

* * *

 

They ended up going to a park. Mainly because, for the life of him, Gavin couldn’t think of anywhere else androids might go. They don’t eat and they don’t drink (apart from blue blood) so that ruled out about 90% of the places Gavin usually went to.

They sat on a picnic bench and looked out across the playground and dog park. There were a few people there braving the chill to enjoy the cold blue sky and the vibrant red leaves of fall but most of them were humans so far. The androids they had seen, were either in large groups already or too wrapped up in their own business to disturb. It didn’t matter though, for now Gavin was fine just sitting at the bench bundled up with a thick scarf and with a hot cup of watery coffee set before him. He needed to give Nines a few pointers before he went blundering off into a conversation anyway.

“So,” Gavin started, breathing steam over his fingers to keep them warm then running them across his jaw. “When you see someone who looks up to chattin’, what do you do?”

“I go up to them and ask if they would like to interact,” Nines decided with a firm nod.

Gavin sucked on his teeth and pulled a face. “ _Uhhh_ , I’d start with ‘hey’ then maybe some small talk if I were you.”

Nines’s LED flashed yellow briefly, probably as he looked up the word ‘small talk.’

“I’m not good at small talk, Gavin,” he said, giving him a worried look.  

“Figured as much. It’s not that hard; we’ve done it before you know, when playing cards and shit.”

“Yes, but I know you Gavin.”

There was a beat of silence.

“… Look, you just go in, say hi or whatever, then ask if they come here much. Or maybe talk about the weather. Try it with me.”

“Hello, Gavin. Do you come here much? The weather is clear, 41°, 10% humidity, with a strong possibility of frost in the evening.”

Gavin gave Nines a deadpan look, forcing down the laughter bubbling in his chest and causing his lips to twitch.

“Ah, no, not exactly,” he coughed to cover his smile and straightened his face. “Watch me: hey, haven’t seen you here before. Do you come here often?”

Nines watched intently as Gavin schooled his features into something that somewhat resembled a polite and pleasant smile, in the same way a Rottweiler resembled a chihuahua. Gavin’s face wasn’t used to being polite and pleasant. 

“Nice weather, ain’t it?” Gavin continued, trying his best to keep smiling and not let any sarcasm leak through his voice as he waved his cast at his surroundings. “Hope it stays like this for a bit, bet it’s gonna get colder though. You like Autumn?”

“Yes,” said Nines, nodding. “But I like winter more.”

Gavin pulled himself out of the act and snorted. “That was just an example of what to say, Nines. You didn’t need to answer.”

“Oh,” said Nines and Gavin leaned over the table to mess up his hair. Nines’s worried frown changed to an irked frown as he smoothed down his hair again.

“It’s fine, you dork. We can do small talk if you like,” he paused and cast his mind about for a new topic. “So, do you live near here?”

“Not too far, I live in a small flat in Madison Heights.”

“Woah, really?” Gavin asked, forgetting the small talk for a moment. “You live there? That’s a nice area, for Detroit.”

“And how about you? Where do you live?” Asked Nines in a polite tone.

“Nice,” Gavin grinned, before getting back into the act and answering him.

And so it went for a bit. As always, Nine was a fast learner. It was easy to get pulled into the conversation and forget they were just practicing. Gavin was just in the middle of telling Nines about how crap the the weather had been a few years back at this time of year, when Nines held his hand up and stopped him.

“I believe I have spotted an android who might be amiable to the small talk.”

Gavin gave a quick glance around and sure enough, he spotted the somewhat familiar face of a blond, blue-eyed, LED-less android sitting on a bench with a book. The fact that it was a real physical book was interesting. Although it didn’t seem to be a good read by the guy’s bored expression.

Gavin looked away and gave Nines a shrug. “Go for it if you want.”

Nines went for it.

It was hard to tell from a distance what they were talking about. Gavin was shit at lip reading, always had been. But it seemed to be going well. The Android had stood up, slowly nodding at Nines’s words, and there was a smile on his face. Nines smiled back and waved one of his arms around. The android scratched the back of his head, tussling his hair, and leaned forward slightly.

…Wait a minute.

Gavin squinted at the android, observing him more carefully. He had stepped a bit closer now, nodding his head and grinning wider. Nines said something and he laughed, eyes lidded.

 _Oh **shit** , abort, abort! _Gavin thought as he watched the obvious case of flirting go boomeranging over Nines’s head. He was waving his arms at the sky now, grinning as he obviously (and obliviously) turned the conversation towards the weather. The blond android’s smile fell slightly. Gavin put his hand over his eyes and decided he couldn’t watch anymore.

A few minutes later, a slightly puzzled looking Nines sat across from Gavin. The blond android was long gone.

“I’m not sure what I did wrong there,” he said.

Gavin slowly brought his hand away from his eyes and stared blankly up at the sky. He was going to have to tell Nines about flirting, wasn’t he?

 ** _Fuck_**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Lesson:  
> Flirting


	12. Lesson 10: Flirting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Gavin has a great ass, awful pick up lines are used and Nines got game.

* * *

 

As Gavin had previously predicted, telling Nines about flirting had resulted in about the worst case scenario possible:

Nines wanted to learn how to do it.

Fuck him with a rusty sledgehammer, Gavin _really_ hadn’t wanted to do that. So he had decided _he_ wouldn’t. Tomorrow Gavin would. Tomorrow Gavin, as a rule, _really_ hated Yesterday Gavin. Especially in this case, because Yesterday Gavin had also thought it’d be a good idea to go out to do this. Like _out_ out. As in at a bar kinda out. It made sense really. Gavin had wanted some targets to throw Nines at so he wouldn’t have to do a fucking role-play or some shit. But this also meant that Gavin would have to sit through the excruciating second hand embarrassment that would be Nines flirting and _God that sounded wrong._

There was also the fact that, while Gavin looked much better than he did about two months back, he still wasn’t at his best. He’d been on a permanent leg-day exercise regimen which had helped with his ass but less so his noodly upper body and flabby stomach. Also he  _still_ had both arms out of commission for the most part.

He huffed out an angry sigh as he struggled to pull his v-neck shirt over his cast, and sucked his teeth as he carefully threaded his left arm through too. Both his collarbone and rib were healing nicely. The hospital said just one more week and he’d be in the clear to use his left arm again. Gavin wasn’t going to fuck with that, not now he was so close to getting back to work.

“How are you doing, Gavin?” Nines called from the living room, for like the tenth time in five minutes. Gavin rolled his eyes but answered anyway, in spite of his mild irritation.

“Fine. You done yet?” He yelled back, picking up a tube of hair gel and scrunching up his hair with it.

When Nines had turned up at his door twenty minutes ago, wearing that same god damn white jacket and high collared dress-shirt as always, Gavin had ( _somewhat_ ) nicely lectured him about fashion and when not to dress like a workaholic prick. He then proceeded to rummage around for his biggest and baggiest clothes and just hoped he had something that would fit Nines’s stupidly broad chest.

“I believe I am done,” Gavin heard Nines say, so he went out to have a look.

“Hey, not bad,” Gavin smirked, leaning on the door frame and looking Nines up and down. And it was true, it wasn’t bad. Nines had kept his black pants on along with his dress shoes (Gavin _knew_ he’d never find something his size in his flat) but this, coupled with the skin tight white tank top Nines had settled on and Gavin’s leather jacket, made quite the (strained at the seams) picture.

Yeah, it wasn’t bad. It was _good_. ~~(Damn robot could be a fucking model with just a fucking tank top.)~~ Only thing left to deal with now was the hair.  

“Lean down,” said Gavin, uncapping the bottle of hair gel still in hand. Nines did so without question, only to pull back the moment Gavin started running his fingers through his hair.

“Hold it, I’m not messing it up. I’m styling it. It looks too neat for a bar right now.”

Nines frowned then his eyebrows suddenly rose almost to his hairline. “Is that why you have frequently been ruffling my hair recently?”

“Nah. That’s ‘cause I like messing with you.”

The frown came back but Nines let Gavin get on with it. The end result was… okay. A bit messy looking but, hey, Gavin only had one hand to work with here. The small fluffy poof of hair that usually stuck out over his forehead had been joined with a lot more of his hair, forming a sort of tousled, side-swept fringe that bounced slightly as Nines straightened up. As he did so, Gavin noticed something a bit odd. Nines had a chain around his neck. It was thin and silvery with something weighing it down, hidden underneath his tank-top. It wasn’t Gavin’s and he hadn’t thought Nines the sort of guy to wear jewellery.

“Shall we go?” Nines asked, breaking into Gavin’s thoughts and making him realise he’d been staring at Nines’s fucking chest for the last thirty seconds or so.

Oh Christ.

“Yes! I- yeah, let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

In the end, it wasn’t quite as bad as Gavin has feared. They sat at the bar pretty much the instant they got in and hadn’t moved since. Gavin didn’t want any drunks falling on him or some shit, and Nines had questions he wanted answering.

Loads. Of. Questions.

“Uh, people who are bi go for both men and women while the uh-what d’you call them again?”

“Polysexual, omnisexual and ambisexual.”

“Yeah, that’s like… _Look_ , I really don’t know all the terms beyond gay, ace, bi, trans and straight up bitch,” he said, listing them off with a finger each. “Why’re you asking me all this? Just look it up.”

“I have but sources vary a lot on this matter. It’s confusing.”

“You can say that again,” Gavin said, signalling to the bar keep for yet another drink. “Look it really doesn’t matter what you call yourself. Just like who you like, or don’t like who you don’t like if that’s your style.”

The barkeep leaned over, sweeping away Gavin’s finished drink and placing down a new bottle.

“Ta,” he said before tilting his body back to Nines and taking a bracing gulp of beer. “You see anyone you’re interested in?”

Nines looked around and Gavin followed his gaze. There were a few people on the bar, chatting together or doing shots. Most were in large groups though. One older man was sat by himself but had obviously came to drink himself into oblivion, not socialise.  Further towards the front of the bar, there was a group of three women in their mid-twenties all gathered around a giant pitcher of something or other, sucking it up through straws. And towards the back there was a mass of people dancing on the makeshift dance floor, which was more like a mass of superglued crate boxes then any kind of floor. It was hard to see what sort of people there were dancing on the health and safety hazard from this distance but maybe Nines could.

“I… don’t know,” said Nines, frowning at the crowd of dancers before turning back to Gavin.

“Well, keep a look out then,” Gavin said, reaching out for his beer only to stop halfway as a thought suddenly occurred.  “You okay with flirting with humans? I mean, I don’t think many androids are gonna be out here.”

“I don’t have a preference as far as I am aware,” Nines said in a considering tone. “Although an android might be more receptive to any wooing.”

Gavin unsuccessfully repressed a whole-body shudder at that. “Ugh, don’t call it ‘ _wooing’_ , Nines.”

Nines huffed out a sigh and brushed a hand up against his gelled mess of his hair. “This is confusing, there’s so much terminology and so many rules. I cannot find any online that are completely consistent.”

“Well that’s your first mistake. Don’t google that crap. The internet’s a weird place, they’ll tell you to do something stupid like ask ‘em if they want kids or splash a drink on their face.”

Nines’s LED flashed yellow for a moment. “Yes, there are references to that on multiple websites.”

“See, you’ve gotta be careful with that internet crap. You’ll get punched if you do it wrong, or just a drink in your face if you’re lucky… oh and don’t use any creepy cliché pickup lines. Only sad sacks do that.”

“Pick up lines?”

Gavin smirked and picked up a peanut from the bag Nines had got him, tossing it back into his mouth.

( _When they first got in, Nines had taken one look at the bowl of free peanuts on the bar before telling Gavin not to go near them in any circumstance. Gavin had wisely decided not to ask and accepted the bag without comment._ )

Still chewing the peanut, Gavin leaned forward and grinned at Nines. “I’d rate you a Nines out of ten but only because I’m the one you’re missing,” he drawled out with a two-eyed wink.

…How many beers had he had again?

Nines blinked confusedly, then his eyes widened with realisation. “So, it’s like a joke.”

“Uh, yeah, I suppose so, but flirty-like,” Gavin muttered, scratching the back of his head and glancing away. “Most of them are crap, but that’s half the fun. It’s just to break the ice mostly. But make sure your person is into it though. If they don’t like it: stop.”

“Do you have any others?” Nines asked.

“Gimme a sec,” Gavin said, taking a sip of his drink and thinking hard. “Is your name John?”

“No, it’s Nines. Gavin, you know my-”

“Cause I’ve never cena guy like you.”

“… I don’t get it,” Nines said. Gavin eyed up his blue LED.

“You can look it up, don’t think you’ll get a lot of these if you don’t. Look, here’s a simpler one: are you the sun?”

“No, I-”

“Coz you light up my day and are hot as hell.”

Nines’s confused look melted away to be replaced by a small twitch of his lips. It was almost a smile. Gavin grinned back and, emboldened by Nines’s reaction, fished out his phone.

“Wanna see a picture of this really hot guy I saw?” He asked, beckoning Nines to lean over and look at his phone. He snapped a picture of Nines with the front camera and handed it to him with an over the top wink-blink.

“I like that one,” said Nines passing the phone back, his was definitely wearing a smile now.

“Your go,” Gavin chuckled, pocketing his mobile and waving at the barkeeper to bring him a new drink.  

Nines thought about it. He looked at Gavin, then the dancers at the back then finally back to Gavin again.

“Can I touch your ass?”

Gavin spat out his drink.

“ _What_?!”

“Please Gavin. Stop spitting things on me,” Nines sighed, grabbing a napkin from behind the bar and moping the beer spray from his chest. “Anyway, I believe you heard me. You need to say yes.”

“ _No one_ would say yes to that.”

“I’m not going to actually touch your ass,” Nines reassured Gavin, who gave him a doubtful look before the alcohol in him decided ‘what the hell.’

“Okay, suuure, you can touch my ass.”

Nines smiled and lifted his hand to cup Gavin’s face.

“…You dick.”

Nines’s smile grew into a toothy grin, even as Gavin pulled back and started throwing peanuts at him.

 

* * *

 

The night was turning out better than Gavin thought. Being Nines’s wingman, or whatever the fuck he was, was much more fun that Gavin had predicted. That is, until someone finally showed some interest in Nines.

“Hey handsome,” smiled a twenty-something girl, edging up on Nines’s right and making him turn away from Gavin, mid-awful pickup line. “You two here together?”

“Nah,” Gavin drawled out, before Nines could take that literally and say yes. The girl grinned, tucking a long ribbon of silky black hair behind a heavily pierced ear.

Gavin could feel Nines staring at him. He gave him a sharp nudge with his elbow and picked up his drink. Nines turned to face her.

“You come here often?” Gavin heard the girl ask.

“This my first time here, although I’m starting to feel like I should come more often for the company.”

Ooh, smooth fucker. Gavin grinned, took another sip of his beer and watched from the corner of his eye as the girl looped her arm through Nines’s and led him further down the bar.

Gavin fished out his phone, and sent him a quick text:

**‘If the flirting works google what to do next I’m not telling you that shit’**

His phone buzzed in response before Gavin could even put it back in his pocket.

_‘Very well.’_

Gavin rolled his eyes. While Nines’s flirting game had improved, his texting skills certainly hadn’t.

‘ **Remember internet people are creepy so double check** ’

Nines didn’t respond this time so Gavin put the phone away and turned back to the bar. Slowly but steadily, he worked his way through the rest of the drink, sending the odd glance over to Nines to check he was okay while also making sure not to stare too long.

“Want another one hun?” Asked the barkeep, as soon as he was done, already fishing out another bottle from the glass fridge in preparation. Gavin probably shouldn’t take it; he’d already had four and a sneaky shot of tequila. And he hadn’t drink properly in a long while what with all the painkillers and shit, so his alcohol tolerance was crap at the moment...

Gavin took the beer.

Nines was leaning against the bar about five seats away now, faced away from him. He could see the girl though. Her eyes were sparking in the low light, a flushed smile gracing her face. Gavin turned back to his beer and frowned down at it. He looked at the groups of people chatting all around him, all in groups or dancing at the back. Then he glanced at the slumped and grizzled old man drinking by himself at the other end of the bar…

“Fuck this,” he decided and downed the drink.

 He ordered one more shot of tequila to go then paid off his tab. Nines had it covered from here. He’d be fine, and he could always text if he wasn’t.

He only just made it down the stairs before his phone buzzed.

‘ _Where are you?_ ’

Gavin stared at the phone for a long minute, his vision was slightly blurred around the edges but the words remained the same. Nines must have noticed that he left pretty much straight away. Had he been keeping an eye out for him? Gavin shook his head and typed out a reply.

‘ **Going home. You’ve got this** ’

There was no instant answering buzz this time so Gavin put the phone away and walked out of the bar, out into the cool November air.

Ugh. Oh yeah. He’d need a taxi. Shouldn’t have put his phone away. Ah well.

Gavin stepped away from the entrance and started fishing out his phone again, very carefully because he was a bit tipsy and he knew it. He didn’t want to drop his mobile thank you very m-

“Gavin.”

Gavin dropped the phone. A pair of smooth, broad hands caught it.

“Jesus,” Gavin hissed out, hand to his chest as Nines straightened up to his usual towering height.

“No, it’s Nines,” said Nines with a hint of a smile in his voice. Not on his face though.

“You’re doing that on purpose now,” Gavin remarked, taking back his phone with a roll of his eyes. He paused and looked around. The girl from earlier was no where to be seen. “What you doing out here? You should go back in.”

“Will you be coming?”

“No, look I already- no, it doesn’t matter, you’re doing okay. You don’t need me here.”

Nines didn’t move. He just continued to stare down at Gavin.

“...I don’t want to learn how to flirt any more.”

Gavin blinked up at him, confusion written all over his face in large, neon letters.

“Huh? Didn’t you like that woman?”

Nines considered this for a moment then shook his head.

“I found her ears interesting. The conversation less so.”

“Her… ears.”

Gavin was too drunk for this.

“Yes, they had rings in them. I haven’t seen so many before. I was curious.”

Gavin huffed out a laugh and smiled, it was teasing but soft. “So, you’re into piercings then?”

“They are interesting, although I don’t understand why humans voluntarily get them when there seems to be no benefit.”

“Depends where you get them,” Gavin said and instantly regretted it.

Luckily, Nines didn’t say anything to that. He looked around the dark and empty streets and his LED flashed yellow.

“I’ve called for a cab. I’ll help you get home.”

Gavin nodded, the movement stiff. They stood next to each other and stared out at the empty street. Nines wanted to say something. Even with Gavin’s slight drunken haze, he could tell.

“…I didn’t enjoy how she leaned against me.”

Gavin’s eyebrows rose. So, Nines had a sense of personal space after all. Who’d have thought?

“That’s fair. It like that with anyone else?”

Nines shook his head.

“Maybe women just aren’t your style,” Gavin said before shrugging and looking away. “Or maybe you’re not into any of this. No big deal if you’re not. Not everyone’s into romance.”

“I don’t think this falls under the category of romance, Gavin.”

A breathy burst of laughter came from Gavin as he looked up at Nines again. “Yeah maybe not. _Really_ don’t think I’m the guy to be teaching you this shit.”

Nines smiled back and shrugged, about to say something, only to stop when he noticed the taxi pulling up. Whatever he was going to say was forgotten as Gavin staggered to the taxi, Nines guiding his every step with a pair of broad, scorching hands on his back.

And if Gavin leaned back into the heat of those hands- well- it was no one’s business but his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson:  
> Friendship


	13. Lesson 11: Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tina thinks Gavin is a Pod Person, Gavin thinks Nines is a fucking bastard and Nines just doesn’t know what to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was torn between calling this chapter 'friendship' and 'changing opinions'. It's hard because Nines is learning more than one lesson in some of these chapters so I'll have to think carefully on all the upcoming titles.

* * *

 

“ _He-ey_! Wow! Didn’t know you were back _today_. Huh, lost track of time.”

“Oh. You’re... welcome back, Reed.”

“Uh, _hey_ Reed. Nice to see you again?”

“Crap. I forgot he was- oh! _Hiiii_!”

Gavin grinned and basked it all in. The precinct was quieter than normal, the morning shift having only just started, but still, the air was filled with the sound of ringing phones, the odd radio transmission and the bitter murmurs of his colleagues.

He munched on one of Tina’s donuts, teeth crunching into the sugar encrusted, grease drenched delight, simply nodding back in greeting as people slowly filtered by his desk. Oh, the fake grins, the low-level mutters and the glare-stares, how he’d missed this.

“It’s good to be back,” he sighed to Tina who was perched next to him on the edge of his desk, having practically glued herself to his side the instant he came in.

She gave him a bit of a funny look at that, before glancing at all their co-workers gathered at their desks and not-so subtly moaning about Gavin’s return.

“Is it?” She asked taking another sip of the coffee Gavin brought her this morning. It was a nutmeg and ginger latte. It smelt god awful, like artificial sugar and sadness, but Tina seemed to like it.

“Yeah!” Exclaimed Gavin, waving his now free left arm in the air for emphasis. “I’ve been going crazy relaxing all the fucking time. Can’t wait to get my groove back.”

“You _do_ know you’re on desk duty right?”

“Yeah, but I can still _do_ stuff, still investigate a bit. Anyway, it’s only a few weeks until I’ll be clear for the real cases.” Gavin shrugged, scratching at the edge of his cast, the last remaining road block to full time work.

“It would’ve been less if you had let me help around the flat more. Still can’t believe you opened up the fracture again, you dumbass.”

Gavin shrugged again, still smiling, far too happy to be back to be bothered by the reproach in Tina’s voice.

Tina furrowed her brow and put down the coffee. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my grumpy Gavin?”

Gavin stuck out his tongue, but only briefly as Tina was starting to aim her donut like it was a fucking hoopla. He started to grin again instead, the sheer amount of jubilation in the expression so great that Tina couldn’t help but smile back, despite her confusion. 

“Oh Christ. _You_ ’re back. Well, it true what they say: good things don’t last,” came the very familiar, and very cantankerous voice of Hank Anderson, interrupting their fun. 

“Morning to you too, Hank,” Gavin returned with a good-natured roll of his eyes before turning back to Tina, unaware that everyone’s mouths had just dropped. It was only when he noticed Tina had gone slack jawed that he glanced back to see Hank and Brown staring at him like he’d grown an extra head.

“The fuck,” said Hank, eloquent as ever.

It took Gavin a second to clock onto why he was getting all the odd looks. He was being too nice. Gavin would usually be swearing at this point, or throwing out threats or insults, but he hadn’t, and he didn’t feel like doing so anytime soon.

Huh.

“You feeling okay there, Gavin?” Asked Brown, his smile a mix of amusement and honest-to-God concern.

Yeah. Gavin was fine. More than fine, really. Even in the face of Brown’s condescending humour, he didn’t feel irritated or flustered. Well, not flustered at least. He could keep his cool.

“Yeah, all fixed up,” Gavin nodded, waving his now-free left arm in the air and making Brown chuckle despite himself. Tina and Hank’s looks of incredulity were kicked up another notch.

Gavin idly wondered if this odd, mellow mood was due of all the time he’d spent with Nines. If he still got hung up on every little thing, Nines would have driven him insane by now.

Speaking of Nines, on the other side of the bull pen, the android in question had just appeared. He was exiting the evidence room, straight-backed and straight-faced, folder in hand and making a beeline for the exit. His expression was a mixture of frown and focus, that, upon noticing Gavin’s presence, dropped faster than the Cyberlife stock market. He froze, foot hovering in the air, and _stared_ , eyes flickering over Gavin, to the people around him and back again.

Gavin slowly started to smile. Going by the blank look on his face, Nines hadn’t known he was coming back today. It made sense, apparently not everyone had known about his return. Gavin had just figured Nines would have been able to work it out and so hadn’t bothered telling him last night.

“ _Surprise_ ,” Gavin called out with a cheeky grin. Tina followed his gaze, as did the others around him, all turning and staring at Nines with confusion.

Nines didn’t smile back. He didn’t even say anything. He just turned his gaze away and carried on walking. Gavin blinked, confused, before shaking his head and forcing the smile back on. He hopped off his desk and weaved his way through the maze of desks, intersecting on Nines’s route.

“Hey Nines, I’m talkin’ at you,” he said, standing in front of him now, back slouched and hands shoved in his pockets in an overly relaxed fashion.

“Is there something you require, Detective Reed?” Nines stated, frown heavy and stiff on his face as he paused and looked down his nose at Gavin.

Gavin’s smile faded.

“ _Detective Re_ \- What? _No_. Why are you-”

“Then I will take my leave,” and with that he neatly stepped around Gavin and marched out of the bullpen.

Gavin stared after him, eyes wide and jaw tense, then sharply looked away, face flushing in an ugly way. Hank was scrutinising him, eyebrow cocked, Tina was looking even more confused (if that were possible) and Brown-

“Don’t worry about that one,” he smiled at Gavin, walking up to him and patting his shoulder. “Guy’s a jerk through and through.”

“ _Shut_ the _fuck_ up _, asshole_ ,” Gavin spat out, roughly shrugging off the hand and moving away. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tina making a tactical retreat. He didn’t spare her a glance though, putting all his focus on glaring a hole through Brown’s skull.

“And there’s the residence asshole we all know and hate,” snorted Hank, shaking his head and walking away. Brown followed, throwing Gavin a blank look before shaking his head too. Gavin glared after them then turned and looked back to the front, where Nines had rushed out like his ass was on fire.

 _The fuck was **that**_?

 

* * *

 

The rest of Gavin’s first day back was not a good one. Not for Gavin and certainly not for anyone else. A dark thunder cloud seemed to hover above his head. Anyone who went near him could feel the rumbling grumbles in their feet, and anyone idiotic enough to talk to him got struck down by either cruel jibes or dark looks. The only people spared from Gavin’s bad mood were those who cleverly stayed the hell away from him, Fowler (mainly because he was out. But even if he hadn’t been, Gavin was moody not an idiot), and Nines (because the prick wasn’t even there.)

There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief when Gavin clocked out for the day. He heard it as he left, along with someone whistling ‘ding dong the witch is dead’. He really couldn’t find it in him to care though. He just got in his car and started driving, teeth bared and left hand gripping tightly onto the wheel.

Fuck sake. What did he expect? For Nines to waltz up and give him a fist bump? For him to grin and joke back? _No_ , but he hadn’t expected to be ignored point fucking blank. What the hell?! All those weeks, those months, helping that motherfucker out and he just- what? Is suddenly too cool to be seen talking to Gavin or some shit?

Fuck him. Goddamn it. Fuck that son of a bitch.

He pulled up sharply outside of his flat, stormed out of the car and slammed the door shut with a vicious kick. A distant part of him knew he was being an idiot; that he shouldn’t get so worked up about this, and that kicking things didn’t help. He ignored it and slammed his foot into the car once, twice more, sending a twinge of pain up his heal at the bad angle. Despite the pain, he wanted to kick it again, to kick and stamp his feet like a little kid who didn’t get their way. He didn’t do it though. He just braced his hands against the roof of his car and sucked in a tight breath through his teeth. He needed to get a grip for fucks sake. Forget today, forget all that shit. Just focus on the here and now.

Gavin slowly let out a large lungful of air, straightened out his jacket and walked away, up to his flat. Yeah, he needed to check on Kit and Exie. It’d been a while since they were left alone in the flat for a long stretch of time. (Hopefully they hadn’t destroyed too much.) Then he needed to clean his cast and take his pills. And after that, he’d get an early start on dinner. Perhaps he’d have a chicken noodle stir fry. Now his left hand was free, he could start cooking healthier again.

Gavin nodded to himself as the lift ascended. Yeah, a healthy evening of getting his shit together sounded just the thing. Too bad he was probably just gonna dry swallow some pills, order a takeaway and watch CatWalk.

At least, that was the plan until the lift doors opened and he caught sight of who was waiting outside the flat.

“Hello, Gavin.”

…Gavin didn’t say anything. He stepped out of the lift, pulled out his keys and quickly unlocked his door.

“Gavin?”

Gavin didn’t respond. He walked in, shut the door behind him and put the bolt chain on.

It took all of thirty seconds for Nines to pick the lock. He couldn’t pick a chain lock though. The door opened three inches before it stopped, unable to move any further. Gavin glared at it from the kitchen counter, running his right-hand fingers under Kit’s chin and rearranging Exie to sit on his lap with his left.

“...Gavin?”

Gavin didn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?”

He glared into space, still petting the cats, his lips compressing into a thin, white line.

“Why have you locked me out?”

 Gavin’s hands froze. Kit and Exie blinked up at him, confused about why the petting had stopped. Quickly, but carefully, he picked them both up and placed them safely on the ground. He then turned and walked closer to the door; eyes fixed on the broad, flawless fingers latched over the edge.

“You better move those fingers, else they’re gonna pop off when I fuckin’ slam that door,” he said in a cool tone.

There was a pause. The hand didn’t move.

“Did I do something to upset you, Gavin?”

 “Did you-?! Yeah! _Yeah_ _you did_!” The cool, collected tone was but a distant memory now. “What the fuck was that at work? You called me Reed. You looked at me like you didn’t know me. Like I was fuckn’ _dirt_!”

Nines didn’t say anything. The fingers still didn’t move.

“Can you let me in?”

Gavin didn’t want to let him in. He should’ve known this would happen. He should’ve known that Nines wasn’t really- that Nines didn’t-

“Gavin, please let me in. I don’t want to damage your door.”

Gavin hissed out a muffled swear, rubbing his hand over his face and agitatedly tapping his foot. “Fine! Fucking fine!”

Nines’s fingers slipped back and Gavin shut the door to unbolt it. He didn’t open it straight away though. For a moment he just stood there, hand on the handle, gripping the cold metal tight. Then he closed his eyes, opened it and turned away, walking towards the small balcony window. Gavin crossed his arms and looked out of the glass, down at the street and the odd scarf and jumper clad pedestrians making their way home through the dark. He felt, rather than heard, Nines join him by his side.

“What the hell was that about, huh? You fed up with me or somethin’?” He asked, trying his best to cover the hurt in his voice with anger.

And failing.

“You told me not to socialise with you at work. That I should not talk to you.”

Gavin blinked and looked away from the window, at Nines, who was still staring through it, not looking at Gavin

“ _Huh_?”

“You told me I couldn’t call you Gavin at the precinct. That I was not your ‘buddy’ and so I would have to call you Reed.”

“I didn’t! What the hell are you-”

“On the day I told you my name, I asked if I should be friendly to you at work. You said no.”

Gavin gave Nines such a look of incredulity, his face hurt from it. “The fuck I did!”  

“Gavin, I have perfect recollection. You _said_ that.”

“But that was before-” Gavin cut himself off, tongue tripping on the words poised to spill out.

“Before what?” Nines slowly turned to face Gavin, his LED a bright shade of yellow, mercury eyes intense and unblinking. 

Gavin looked away, groaning and running a hand over his chin.

“What were you going to say?” Nines pressed, leaning in close.

“You fucking know what personal space is?” Gavin muttered, edging back and almost tripping over the edge of his TV stand. Nines stepped forward, even closer. They were inches apart now.

“You are trying to distract me. It won’t work. Before what?”

“Look, it’s nothing.”

“ _Before what_ , Gavin?”

“Seriously, you need to-”

“ ** _Gavin_**.”

“Before you were my fucking friend! That’s what!” Gavin exploded, shoving himself forward into Nines’s space with a snarl. Nines didn’t move. They were nose to nose. (Or, well, nose to chin.) Gavin was glaring, face hot and eyes dark. Nines wasn’t though. His face seemed to be washed blank with confusion, like the cogs in his brain were working overtime and couldn’t quite comprehend the words that came out of Gavin’s mouth.

“We are friends?”

“Yes, you idi-!” Gavin forced his mouth shut with a click and looked down. “… Yeah, we are.”

Nines was still staring at him; Gavin could fucking feel it. He didn’t look up though. He didn’t even move, just glaring down, past Nines’s broad shoulders, face hot enough to cook bacon.

“But you _said_ -”

“I _know_ what I said, Nines!” Gavin exclaimed, shoulders up to his ears as he leaned back and glowered around the room, at anywhere that wasn’t Nines.  “ _Jesus_. People _are_ allowed to change their minds you know.”

“We are friends?”

Gavin groaned and closed his eyes. “Yes! Do I have to keep saying it?”

“We’re friends,” Nines said again, more to himself now than to Gavin. His voice sounded odd.

Gavin finally looked up. Nines was grinning to himself, eyes distant but full of something that Gavin had no words to describe. It just made him look goofy, and happy and his smile was too big and showed far too many teeth and-

Gavin couldn’t take his eyes away.

“…Yeah, bud. Course we’re friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson:  
> Getting on with Co-workers


	14. Lesson 12: Getting on with Co-workers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tina is still confused, Nines tries the 'Small Talk' again and Gavin is not used to receiving physical affection.

* * *

 

“None of it? Seriously?”

Nines huffed out a quiet sigh and nodded again, taking care to match his step with Gavin’s as they walked up the last of the steps and through the front doors to the precinct.

“Can’t believe you’ve been doing _none_ of the stuff I taught you. Wasn’t that the whole point of this thing?” Gavin asked, flashing his badge at one of the scanners and slouching past the reception desks, wholly uncaring about the wide-eyed look the receptionists were sending them both. Nines followed behind him, not bothering with his card as his LED flashed yellow.

“I simply wished to become as proficient as possible first to avoid a repeat of the lying incident.”

Gavin thought hard about this, his quick paced steps slowing to a stop and his eyes travelling up and to the left before snapping back to Nines. “Oh, yeah! I almost forgot about that! You tried to lie to Hank didn’t you.”

Gavin didn’t laugh about it this time. He could see by the way Nines looked down at his hands, that he still found the memory unpleasant. So instead Gavin just shrugged.

“Don’t know why you’re interested in being friendly to that grizzled old bastard. There’re much better friends to make round here.”

“Who?”

Gavin grinned, clapped a hand on Nines’s shoulder and turned towards the break room. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to her.”

Tina, as Gavin predicted, was stood at one of the tables, coffee in one hand and mobile in the other. She glanced up as they entered, eyes swivelling and locking onto Gavin’s hand, still on Nines’s shoulder as he guided him forward. She choked on her mouthful of coffee, great black drops of it bursting out of her pursed lips.

“I see you have characteristics in common,” Nines said in an undertone, only just loud enough for Gavin to hear. Gavin rolled his eyes and dropped his hand.

“Hey Tina,” Gavin greeted, sliding up to her side and gently bumping her with his shoulder.

“Uh, hey yourself?” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as her eyes snapped to and fro between Gavin and the looming figure of Nines behind him.

“You met Nines yet?”

“Officer Chen and I have previously become acquainted when I assisted her on a kidnapping case.”

Tina’s look of gentle bemusement started to settle into a frown. Yeah. She _obviously_ remembered that.

“Jeez, Nines,” Gavin hurriedly interjected, before the silence could grow into anything more awkward and Tina’s face could settle into a glare. “‘Previously?’ ‘Acquainted?’ you can just say: ‘we’ve met’, _much_ faster.”

Nines tilted his head to the side considering this, then conceded with a small nod. Gavin suddenly wondered if Nines knew he was just teasing…

“What’s going on, Gavin?” Tina asked in a low voice. “Why’re you talking to RK900?”

He glanced at Tina then turned back to Nines. It was Gavin’s turn to wear the frown now. “You didn’t tell anyone your name?”

Nines had the grace to look embarrassed about that, scratching the back of his head and glancing away. Gavin’s frown faded in the face of his more expressive body language. His LED was a steady blue, he didn’t even seem to be thinking about the motions now, just showing them in accordance with his feelings.

”I didn’t know how to bring it up,” Nines finally settled on saying. Tina was staring at him with round, perturbed eyes.

“Uh-huh, you were being shy weren’t you?” Gavin teased with a grin. He could feel Tina’s head snap round to him so fast it must have hurt. Nines seemed to notice this and gave Tina a look of genuine concern.

“Are you alright, Officer Chen?”

“I, uh, yeah. So, you two know each other?”

… _Wait. What?_

“What’re you talking about T? Nines was the one who-”

“Reed, the captain wants to see you.”

All three of them looked around as Chris Miller interrupted with a sheepish smile. He was glancing at Nines curiously but didn’t comment on the company he kept.

“Sure, I’ll be there,” returned Gavin before turning back to Tina and Nines and giving them both a half-assed wave. “See you two later.”

 

* * *

 

Being summoned to see Fowler usually wasn’t a good thing; not for anyone and certainly not for Gavin. It made sense why it was happening though, the man had been too busy to talk yesterday. Beyond yesterday’s email detailing a few admin jobs for him to get on with, Gavin hadn’t heard from him for about two months.

“Good to see you on your feet, Reed.”

Reed nodded, but didn’t say anything, not trusting himself not to fall back onto sarcasm for want of anything else to say. Fowler didn’t _look_ particularly glad. Anyway, Gavin had always been on his feet. It was his arms that had been the problem.

Fowler picked up a stack of files and held them out for Gavin to take. “Here, the cases I’ve assigned you. Detective Collins and Duran will be working on the scene for these. You will be assisting them from the precinct for now. You will keep to the day shift and there will be no overtime, am I clear?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re clear,” Gavin murmured with another nod, having pretty much expected this. Captain Fowler, going by the way his eyebrows raised, had _not_ expected such a mellow response.

Well, wasn’t Gavin surprising everyone lately. Most of all himself.

“I’ve also taken the _liberty_ of getting you a hard copy of the procedures of arrest. Make sure to read it carefully, Reed. Emails alone are not enough.”

Gavin did roll his eyes at that but didn’t comment as he took the wallet of paper. As much as he’d like to complain about this, the fact was Gavin could’ve got in a lotta trouble over the whole thing. He was just lucky Nines helped mitigate the damage.

He was lucky for Nines full stop.

“Sure, Cap,” he said before turning and leaving.

“Reed?”

Gavin stopped, hand on the door and looked back. Fowler was giving him an odd, assessing look. His mouth was down-turned and a small crease formed in the middle of his furrowed brow. He tilted his head to the side then shook it and turned back to his work.

“Never mind, you’re dismissed.”

 

* * *

 

By the time Gavin had finished with Fowler, checked in with a rather irritable Collins and faced off against the ice queen Duran, Nines had vanished from the break room.

“You owe me an explanation, Gav.”

But Tina hadn’t.

Gavin turned around and gave Tina a sheepish grin. She returned it with a deeply unimpressed frown before beckoning him over to her table. He did so, slouching beside her and instantly she leaned in, hissing out:

“He tried to make small talk with me, Gavin. RK900, Cyberlife’s answer to the Terminator, asked me about the weather. What the hell?”

Gavin winced and shook his head. “Yeah, that one’s my fault. It’s still a work in process.”

Tina narrowed her eyes and fixed him in place with a firm, no-nonsense look. “ _What_ is a work in process?”

Gavin explained. He should have done this earlier, he really should have.

“You should’ve told me earlier, Gav,” said Tina, a hint of hurt in her voice. “You really should have.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Gavin sighed, scratching at the back of his head and glancing away. “It’s just, uh, at first I didn’t want _anyone_ to know. Thought everyone’d be talking about Nines and me anyway, with the whole rescue operation and everything. Didn’t want to add all that on top.”

“Well I didn’t know and I don’t think anyone else did either. RK- uh, _Nines_ never said a word and, well, if what you’re saying about the email thing is true, Fowler probably didn’t want loads of people to know he ordered against your rescue.”

Gavin looked up at that, suddenly realising that yeah, the Captain _had_ done that. No wonder he was being so easy on him for skipping procedure. Didn’t make Gavin feel much better though.

They both stood there in silence for a moment, leaning across the small table, thinking hard.

“So… he saved your life?”

“Yeah. I mean, probably? I was in a bad way. That red ice psycho was probably gonna come back and do me in.”

“And he also saved your record, helped you clean up your act and has been keeping you sane for the last two months?” Tina continued, a strange, still tenseness washing over her body.

“… Uh, when you put it like that-”

“I was such a bitch to him!” Tina suddenly cried, slapping her hands into her face and knocking her tepid coffee all over Gavin. “Oh shit, sorry.”

Gavin gave her a put-upon look but took the offered tissues anyway and started mopping up his shirt. “How were _you_ a bitch? How’s that even possible?”

“I brushed him off! He was making small talk then he was asking lots of questions about me and you and I thought it was weird, so I said my break was over and rushed off. I didn’t know he saved your life!”

Gavin huffed out a sigh as Tina gave a low moan and buried her face in her hands again. “Oh yeah? Well, I called him an asshole when he saved my ass, so, uh, as first impressions go, think you’re in the lead.”

Tina peered through her fingers and huffed out a little laugh. It didn’t last long.

“I still feel bad though.”

“Yeah,” Gavin muttered with a one-armed shrug. “Makes sense. I mean, politely saying you were too busy to talk? Wow, what a fuckin’ bitch!”

Tina shoved him on his good shoulder but grinned when Gavin started to snicker.

“Okay, fine, fine,” she relented, picking up her mug and dumping it in the sink. “But I still want to make it up to him. If you need a, um, consultant or whatever on these tutoring sessions, just send me a text, okay?”

Gavin snorted and smiled. It was smaller and softer and made his eyes crinkle. “Thanks T.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t believe Officer Chen likes me much.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow and glanced away from the road to the passenger seat to his right. Nines sat in it, a soft slump in his back as he quietly gazed out of the front window. It had been about five minutes since Nines had last spoke, thanking Gavin for offering him a lift and giving him directions. Gavin wondered how long this had been on his mind.

Gavin turned his attention back to the road and hummed softly.

“You sure about that?” He asked, pulling up for a red light.

“There is a 78% probability that she was lying about needing to work while I was trying to conver- to speak with her.”

“You can say your fancy words around me, Nines, I don’t care,” Gavin muttered, changing the gear stick and pressing down on the gas as the lights changed again.

“Is this another example of you changing your mind?” Nines asked in what sounded like a teasing manner. Gavin glanced at him and yep, that was a smile, the bastard was definitely teasing.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in would ya,” he grunted, gripping the wheel with one hand and using the other to lightly shove Nines on the shoulder. “I just mean, you can talk how you like. If people use it against you, well, then it’s their loss.”

“… Thank you, Gavin.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop teasing you about it though.”

“I gathered as much.” Nines’s voice was pitched low, with a warm and sincere ring to it. Gavin concentrated on the road, hands tight on the steering wheel.

It was only as they were pulling up at Nines’s place that Gavin spoke again.

“Tina doesn’t dislike you, you know.”

Nines paused, seatbelt undone and hand on the passenger door. He turned back in his seat and Gavin had to force himself to not look away. 

“I talked to her. She’s warmed up to you, said she’s like to get to know you better. Or something like that.”

Nines didn’t move. His eyes shuttered as he processed that.

“Really?”

“Yeah, ‘ _really_ ,’” Gavin snorted fondly, before patting Nines on the shoulder. “You’ve got two of your colleagues liking you now, Nines. You’re getting there.”

Nines, again, didn’t move, just staring at Gavin. His LED circled, flickering between blue and yellow so quickly the colours almost merged. Then, all of a sudden, he was moving, but in a way Gavin wouldn’t have predicted in a hundred years.

Nines hugged him.

As hugs went, it was pretty crap. Gavin was still strapped into his seat, and there was a gear box and a steering wheel in the way, trapping him in and making Nines have to press his shoulders into Gavin’s chest in order to reach him. But it was warm and it was Nines, so Gavin blinked away his surprise, squashed down the instinct to push away and hiss, and awkwardly did his best to return the sudden show of affection.

He patted Nines on the shoulder.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, giving Nines another pat and hoping he’d let go soon. And he did, slowly unwrapping his arms from around Gavin and giving him one last, shy grin before turning and leaving the car.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gavin.”

Gavin didn’t move for a few minutes, half of him blankly watching Nines enter his rather fancy looking flat complex, the other half processing what the hell just happened.

When was the last time someone hugged him? Like a full-on hug? Not a short squeeze of the arm or a soft bump on the shoulder. It was the sort of thing little kids did before they realised it wasn’t cool. Even when in a relationship, it was always more about the kissing and shit for everyone Gavin had been with, never _hugging_.

Gavin stared into space, face red, before shaking himself of these thoughts and driving off. Nines really was something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson:  
> Backup


	15. Lesson 13: Backup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people are nosy, Nines gets a helping hand (or three) and Connor gives Gavin the shovel talk.

* * *

 

Gavin’s chest hurt. Not from the broken rib (which was pretty much done healing now) or from any other ailment. No, his chest was hurting from Nines.

“Shit, stop it!” He wheezed out; left hand braced on Nines’s shoulder to stop him from falling over with laughter. Nines smiled and kept waking, dragging Gavin along behind him as they walked into the bullpen together.

“I am not aware of what I must stop,” he lied, voice returning to normal. It was obvious he was lying; he had his head tilted to the side and his eyes were all big and wide. That was the face of a liar, no doubt about it.

“Oh yeah?” Gavin huffed out with a grin, letting go of Nines’s shoulder and following him to his desk. He sat on the immaculately clean surface and flashed him a soft smirk. “Access that security mic and cam footage you got; we’ll see then.”

“I am afraid you would need to either be an android or have specialist equipment to see through my eyes,” Nines returned, taking a seat and looking up at Gavin with a quirk of his lips.

Gavin hummed and glanced away, thinking about it and pointedly ignoring all the open stares he was receiving from the people around them.

“Couldn’t I just FaceTime you or something? I mean, your mobile’s in your head so it must take videos through your eyes.”

Nines gave Gavin a strange look at that, clearly surprised by the idea.

“I have never thought of that before.”

“Could be useful on stakeouts you know,” Gavin shrugged.

“I would also be able to see you if you weren’t physically available.”

“Uh, yeah?” Gavin cleared his throat and decided to change the topic. “Hey, when Tina comes in, you should greet her with my voice. She’ll _freak_.”

“I… don’t want to upset her.”

“What? No, no, trust me, she’ll find it funny. Don’t- **_Hey Tina!_** _”_

Gavin blinked, lowering his hand from the quick, casual wave he just gave. His voice had an echo to it. He looked round at the pokerfaced Nines then at Tina who was staring at them both, mouth parted into a little ‘o’ of surprise.

Gavin barked out a peal of laughter. “Hah, I didn’t mean _with_ me.”

“Tsk, you trying to prank me again, Gavin?” Tina asked, casual as you please. “And Nines, didn’t think you’d be getting in on this too.”

Nines’s LED went yellow. He glanced at Gavin, who was smirking, then at Tina who was unsuccessfully trying to smother a grin. The tension in his shoulders eased away.

“Guilty as charged, Officer Chen,” he stated, only a faint twitch to the corner of his lips giving away his amusement.

Tina, who was less versed with Nines’s range of expressions, hesitantly looked to Gavin, who was all but beaming at Nines as he got with the program. She turned back to Nines with a pleased look on her face.

“Can you do me?” She asked, tapping at her throat, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

Nines nodded but didn’t make any move to speak. Instead he glanced around, at the large number of people staring at the three of them, at the people staring at _him_.

“Don’t worry about them, they’re just looking for something to gossip about,” said Tina, following his eye-line. Gavin looked around too. He could see Hank glaring, muttering something to Connor out of the corner of his mouth. Connor said something back before turning and meeting Gavin’s gaze.

Brown, not grey, what a difference it makes.

“I really should get on with my work,” said Nines, bringing Gavin’s attention back and away from the strange, blank staring match he had found himself locked in. He turned to inspect Nines’s spotless desk and the clear lack of any case files there.

“Oh yeah, you look swamped,” Gavin said with a roll his eyes. “Can it wait a bit?”

“Wait for what?”

“Wait for you to finish doing a Tina impression. I’m dying to see what you think she usually says.”

Nines looked at Gavin, then to his computer, then down at his hands.

“C’mon, everyone needs downtime, even at work,” Gavin wheedled, lightly nudging at Nines’s chair with his foot, making it sway. Nines looked up and Gavin grinned cheekily.

“I… suppose I-”

Nines cut off, eyes swivelling behind Gavin and small, frowning smile melting off his face into a sombre expression. Bemused, Gavin turned to see Officer O’Donnal giving them all a perturbed glare before focusing on Nines and tossing a file at him.

“RK900, look into this new lead on the trafficking case.”

Nines didn’t say anything; neither did Tina. They all just stared at him. Well, Tina and Nines did. Gavin _glared_.

“No ‘excuse me’s? A pardon would be good.”

“ _What?”_ snapped O’Donnal giving Gavin a weird look. Gavin crossed his arms and met it unrepentantly.

“Thank you, Gavin, but that is unnecessary,” Nines stood and picked up the case file. “However, I would like to state that my name is Nines. I would prefer to be referred to as such in the future.”

O’Donnal blinked slowly then shook his head and walked away.

“Goodbye to you too, asshole!” Gavin called before exchanging a roll of his eyes with a smiling Tina and turning back to Nines, who was smiling too, in his own, subtle way.

Nines opened the file and both Gavin and Tina decided to be nosy bastards and have a look. Tina’s eyebrows shot up and Gavin let out a low whistle.

“Who’ve you got going in with you on this?” Asked Tina, wincing as Nines scrolled down to reveal several new photographs.

“No one,” Nines hummed unconcernedly. Gavin almost pulled a muscle in his neck at how fast he looked up at this.

“No. Those guys look like fucking trolls. You’re taking backup.”

He glanced at Tina, who cottoned on quickly and nodded.

“I’ll go see if Chris or Wilson are free too. Don’t head off without me, Nines.”

Nines didn’t respond, seemingly too busy processing what they meant and then, once he had, he was too busy trying to pick his jaw off the ground. Well, metaphorically at least. In reality, he’d just gone blank faced again but it was clear as day that he was stunned.

If it wasn’t for Gavin’s current lack of a shooting hand, he’d be trying to go out as backup too. Screw the fact he was off fieldwork. But as it was, he’d probably just get in the way. He would have to settle for simply clapping Nines on the shoulder and messing up his hair again.

“See, told you she likes your plastic ass.”

Nines just gave him a wordless, confused frown at that before swiftly tidying up his hair and following after Tina. Gavin smiled, watching both of his friends talk with Chris as he walked out of the station with them. As soon as they rounded the corner though, Gavin’s vision was cut off. Connor was standing in front of him.

_Ah, crap._

“What do _you_ want?” Gavin asked, his smile but a distant memory now.

“Just to talk,” was Connor’s simple response. His voice was soft, and one hand was held out in a calming motion. Gavin wasn’t calmed. He was the opposite of calmed.

“Well, uh, funny thing is I don’t want to,” he said, jumping off Nines’s desk and heading for his own. With Chris out, and several other officers still out on a drug bust, it was quiet around there. It made it easy to hear the footsteps following him. Gavin span around just before he got to his desk meaning Connor had to take a neat step backwards to avoid colliding with him.

“Stop following me you motherfu-”

“What are your intentions towards RK900?” Connor asked, voice cutting into Gavin’s expletives. Gavin glowered at him. Connor tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed.

“None of your goddamn business that’s what.”

“I have to disagree. It is my business if you are planning something untoward.”

That made Gavin pause, anger flailing for purchase inside him, falling away to cold contemplation. Yeah, it kinda made sense for Connor to assume that, what with all the anti-android crap he pulled before. Connor probably still thought Gavin would kill him given half a chance. He _wouldn’t_ but Connor didn’t know that. But still…

“Why d’you care?”

Connor didn’t answer for a moment. His eyes flickered up and down Gavin’s body, probably taking in a shit ton of personal information that Gavin didn’t want to share. Gavin crossed his arms and scowled. Connor simply sighed and tried to smile. It looked painful, almost as bad as Nines’s first few attempts.

“You have been spending a lot time with RK900 and, while we don’t have a _close_ relationship, I do not wish for him to be hurt.” His smile grew more fixed at that and Gavin suddenly clued in. He was getting the shovel talk. He was getting the fucking shovel talk from _Connor_ of all people. Fuck that.

“He thinks you hate him,” said Gavin, voice painfully bland and face doing fuck knows what, probably something strange going by Connor’s raised eyebrows. Gavin ignored that and kept talking. “Everyone does. They all think he did something majorly fucked up for the ‘ _oh so nice Connor_ ’ to hate him. So if you, uh, don’t want him ‘hurt’ get the fuck off your high horse and stop being an asshole.”

And with that Gavin turned away, sat at his desk and blanked out the frozen figure still stood before him. A few minutes passed with Connor staring down at Gavin like he was a fascinating new species of mould, before he turned and left. Gavin let out a quiet sigh of relief, subtly watching as Connor sat back at his own desk with a thoughtful frown on his face. Gavin quickly turned his attention back to work after that, not wanting that bastard to spot him looking and try to talk with him again.

What a prick. Acting like he cared about Nines or some shit when he’d been avoiding him for months, _and_ making others avoid him too. Fucking bastard.

It was with more vitriol than usual (even for Gavin) that he worked over the next couple of hours. Cases files were annotated with clipped and pointed comments, scrunched up balls of paper were littered across his desk, and the ‘enter’ key on his keyboard was broken, forced in with the punching force of his typing. It was good for productivity but not good for anyone working anywhere remotely near to him. Everyone seemed to have wisely decided to leave him the hell alone. This meant he had no one to lash out on but the computer, which wasn’t nearly satisfying enough. So, when a hand came down on his head, about two hours into his work frenzy, he snapped. He looked around with a glare hot enough to sizzle bacon and opened his mouth to spew out the vilest insults he could think of. Then, suddenly, the glare was gone, as were the profanities on the tip of his sharp tongue. It was Nines standing above him with his hand on his head, fingers softly weaving into his hair, gently messing it up. He was smiling.

The world went soft.

There was a bit of blue blood on his lips and his hair look ruffled on one side, but Gavin only needed to take one look at that smile to know Nines was okay. More than okay.

“See you later Nines, good job,” called out Chris, clapping Nines on the back as he walked past, grinning despite also looking in a rough state with a bruised jaw and torn shirt. Nines pulled his hand back from Gavin’s hair, nodded at Chris warmly then turned back to Gavin.

“We took the operation down. You were right, I did need help. They _helped_ me, Gavin.”

“Course I was right. You know me,” Gavin returned with mock seriousness. It didn’t last long in face of that stupidly joyous face. Gavin’s lips twitched up into a gentle smile. Everything, from the sound of phone calls to the obnoxious glares of O’Donnal, faded away into obscurity as Nines steadily beamed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson:  
> A sense of style


	16. Lesson 14: A Sense of Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tina is colour blind, the spit-take returns, and Nines discovers leather pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (What's that river in Egypt called?)

* * *

 

“Hey Tina, you got that cold case file from Duran?”

“Oh, yes, she gave it to me like twenty minutes ago,” said Tina, looking away from her computer and scouring through the tottering piles of paperwork on her desk. “Why’d she do that by the way? Wouldn’t it be easier to drop it off with you?”

“Three guesses why Tina,” Gavin returned with a rueful grin, arms crossed.

“She’s shy.”

“Nope.”

“She has a big crush and can’t stand to be anywhere near you.”

“Fuck no,” said Gavin, pulling a face.

“…You insulted her, didn’t you?”

“Hah, so, uh, file?”

Tina sighed and rolled her eyes but didn’t press Gavin for a straight answer. She just continued to search through the mess of her desk, only pausing to shuffle a few piles of paper out of the way for Gavin to sit.

“Here it is. Though I’m surprised Nines hasn’t had at it yet.”

Gavin looked up from the file, interest sparked. “What d’you mean?”

“Well, you remember how Nines used to gate crash on other people’s cases?”

Yeah, Gavin remembered that. He also remembered that he forgot to have a little talk with Nines about it. Shit, he’d have to make sure to-

“Well, all of a sudden, he stopped that like almost two months back and started eating through the cold stuff instead.”

Gavin blinked, then slowly started to grin. “Thank fuck. People less pissed with him now?”

Tina shrugged, leaning back in her swivel chair and slowly spinning it from side to side. “Yeah? I think so. I mean, he still ruffles people the wrong way and you should see the looks Hank sends him. I bet it’s because he looks so much like Connor, it’s weird.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think that’s it.”

Tina stopped spinning, looking interested. Gavin quickly backtracked.

“But, uh, yeah, p’haps a new look’d help Nines out. Give him his own style or something instead of that damn cyberlife jacket he always wears.”

Gavin paused in his musings, suddenly aware that Tina was still not moving, and instead staring up at him with wide eyes and a devilish grin.

“I want in.”

Suddenly, images of Nines dressed in pikachu onesies, teddy bear print overalls or head-to-toe knitwear flashed through Gavin’s head.

Goddamnit, he couldn’t say no. The mental image of Tina and Nines shopping together was just too funny.

 

* * *

 

It was just a shame that Nines could say no. Not to the shopping thing, no, he seemed quite interested in that, and neither to Tina coming, who he had made it clear he was trying hard to befriend. Instead what he said ‘no’ to was pretty much every piece of clothing they pointed out to him. Despite his usual dapper look, Nines didn’t seem to have a fashionable bone in his body.

“Whatcha mean you ‘don’t like v-necks?! You haven’t even tried one on!” Gavin exclaimed, waving the shirt in front of Nines with an affronted glower.

“I agree with Nines, I don’t think he’d rock it like you,” Tina chirped up from the other side of the clothing racks.

“… Brown nosing gets you nowhere,” Gavin lied, putting back the top.

“Ooh! How about this one, Nines?” Asked Tina holding up a green and yellow cable knitted monstrosity.

“… I don’t believe that would suit me either,” was Nines’s strained yet diplomatic response.

Gavin stopped staring at the jumper in horror to turn and mouth ‘ _nice one’_ to Nines.

“What _do_ you like then?” Asked Tina, walking round to join them.

“I am not sure. Clothes that are similar to what I am wearing now would be preferable.”

Gavin’s smile faded. Quietly, he put back the plaid button up he’d been in the process of picking up and turned to face Nines.

“You didn’t get to choose those clothes; CyberLife did. They don’t get to make _any_ more choices for you, Nines, d’you hear?”

Both Nines and Tina blinked at him, visibly surprised by the unexpected level of vitriol in his voice. Gavin turned back to the rack and started pushing the hangers, eyes trailing over the clothes but not really looking at them.

“Think about what you like and go for it. If you like that stuff, fine. Just be _sure_ ,” he muttered.

No one spoke for a moment. Then:

“I like your leather jacket.”

Blinking in bewilderment, Gavin turned from the clothes rack and faced Nines again. His eyes were downcast, but his expression was not sad. There was a faint, contemplative smile on his lips.

“I also like clothes that cover my neck. I don’t like it being bare.”

“We can work with that,” said Tina, turning on the heal of her boots and beginning her search anew, leaving Nines and Gavin standing next to each other in awkward silence. Well, on Gavin’s side at least. Nines was too busy staring at Gavin like he was some kind of puzzle. Gavin cleared his throat and hastily got on with the clothes hunt.

In the end, Nines managed to pick out a black, zip up leather jacket that somehow fit his stupidly broad shoulders, Gavin found some grey boots that Nines didn’t hate and Tina managed to curb her impulse to buy godawful abomination-clothes and instead produced a small haystack of pull overs, high collared shirts and turtlenecks.

And one pair of tight leather pants.

Gavin, who hadn’t known about the leather pants and who had the unfortunate luck to been chugging down a water bottle when Nines pulled back the changing room curtain, did a spit take. Nines dodged it.

“Holy shit,” Gavin choked as Tina helpfully thumped him on the back. “L- look-   ** _hughk-_** looking good Nines!”

Nines, having now realised Gavin’s coughing fit wasn’t anything serious, moved away from his side and towards one of the changing room mirrors.

“I am not so sure,” he hummed, turning around and inspecting the back of the pants. “Isn’t it too tight for work?”

It was Tina’s turn to choke now, probably at the mental image of Nines walking into the precinct wearing _that_.

“If you wear these to work, criminals will line up to have you arrest them,” she laughed.

Nines started to look contemplative.

“Wait, no! Nines, she’s joking. Don’t wear that to work,” Gavin blurted out, knowing how literal Nines could be sometimes. “But you can wear them _out_ of work.”

“I’m still not sure,” Nines stated, running his hands down the material now. “When would I have an opportunity to wear this?”

Gavin, who’s eyes had been unconsciously trailing the movement of those hands, gave a low cough and shrugged. “Uh, if you ever go to a bar again, that’d be a good look. You’d make all the other asses out there look ugly.”

Nines looked up and caught Gavin’s eye in the mirror, LED circling yellow for a brief second before he seemed to recall the night at the bar, and the awful pickup lines they shared.  He gave a small, smiling huff. It was the closest thing Gavin had ever heard to a genuine laugh from him, and it made him grin from ear to ear.

“So, you gonna buy it or what?” He asked, walking up to examine the reject pile Nines had made inside the changing room. It was much larger than the pile of approved clothes and seemed to consist mostly of lighter coloured jumpers and shirts. Gavin would have presumed that Nines was developing a beginner’s goth style but, going by the bright blue turtleneck, the red pullover and the odd white shirt he had approved of, this was not the case. 

“I think I will buy it,” Nines decided, slipping past Gavin and pulling off his shirt. Gavin promptly went as red as a beetroot and quickly started to back away, only to slow and come to a standstill as he noticed something. The chain around Nines’s neck, the one he spotted now and then whenever Nines leant over and Gavin could see past his ridiculous collar. He could finally see what was attached to it. Softly swinging and bumping against Nines’s chest with his every movement, was a little silver cat, _Gavin’s_ silver cat. The one he gave Nines over a month back at the comedy club. He… he’d been wearing it this whole time.

Nines moved his hands down and starting to unbutton the pants.

“Jesus!” exclaimed Gavin, coming back to himself with a jolt. He jumped back and yanked the curtain closed. “Warn a guy!”

Nines ignored him and Gavin shook his head, turning around only to jump back as he came nose to nose with Tina. His arms pinwheeled for a moment as he fought for balance, wanting very much not to fall back into Nines’s changing room while he was taking off his pants. Luckily, he managed to regain his balance before that could happen. He gave Tina a dower look. Tina, in return, just narrowed her eyes in a contemplative fashion, before glancing past Gavin and calling out:

“Hey Nines, me and Gav are gonna go look at hair products in another shop. Meet us outside here in fifteen minutes.”

 

* * *

 

Tina obviously had something she wanted to say. She didn’t say it though, instead choosing to sort through a range of bottles and jars and stare at Gavin whenever she thought he wasn’t looking. Gavin, who was busy trying to sort through his thoughts on the subject of leather pants and cat necklaces, didn’t bother calling her out on this.

“Do you think Nines should change his hair colour?” Tina asked, picking up a bottle of red hair dye. “I mean, it would definitely help with the confusion between him and Connor.”

“If he wants to change his hair, sure,” shrugged Gavin, absentmindedly shuffling round several tubs of ‘SUPERELECTROSHOCK HAIR BLAST GEL’.

“Yeah, but do you think he’d look better?”

“He looks fine as he is.”

Tina hummed noncommittally at that. Gavin finally looked up from the hair gel products to send her a confused glare.

“He looks _fine_ ,” he repeated. “You don’t think so?”

“I mean, yeah, but he looks like Connor. They have the same face, same hair, same everything. The only difference between them right now is their clothes and their eyes.”

Gavin was properly glaring now. He knew Tina was technically telling the truth but-

“That’s a load of bull crap,” he snapped, shoving aside several bottles of hair gel with much more force than necessary. “Nines is nothing like that prick.”

Tina cocked her head to the side, silently inviting Gavin to keep talking, which Gavin didn’t do. He just glowered at her one last time and turned his attention back to the shelves in front of him. He picked up a random bottle of pomade, a standard looking jar of styling cream and some off-brand hair wax. That would do for now, Nines could always go looking for himself if he didn’t like any of these. Tina followed him to the line, holding a can of hair spray and a strange kind of mousse Gavin hadn’t seen before.

“… He’s going to have quite the look after this,” said Tina, breezily as if she hadn’t just received a death glare from her best friend. “Even if Nines looks, uh, similar to Connor, he’ll have to beat the girls off with a stick.”

“Nines is too nice for that shit; I’ll have to do it for him.”

Tina smiled, relieved, then started to snicker. “You’d better crack out that metal bat of yours. I bet Janice from forensics will be first in line.”

“Wanna see if I can make a home run?”

Tina laughed louder. The cashier stared oddly at them when they reached the front of the queue but Gavin didn’t care.

“C’mon, let’s get back to Nines,” he said as they finished up. “Shops are gonna close soon and I don’t want him waiting out there like a tied-up dog.”

 

* * *

 

Nines wasn’t mopingly waiting outside the clothes shop like a tied-up dog. Neither was he waiting like a regular, if slightly bored, dog. He wasn’t waiting. He wasn’t there.

“ _Shit_. Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know. I told him to meet us her-”

“We can’t have lost him! How can we lose _Nines_?”

“Gavi-”

“If he followed some stranger promising kittens or candy or some shit, I’m gonna kill him,” Gavin hissed out, passing Tina his shopping bags and pulling his phone out.

[Wed 5:14 pm]

 **Where are you**  

“I’m over here, Gavin,” a voice called out straight away, from some distance. Gavin span around and quickly stalked towards said voice, Tina trailing after him.

They found Nines staring through the glass of a shop front window display. He only looked up when they drew up to his side.

“Fucks sake, Nines,” snapped Gavin, letting out a stressed huff. “Text me next time if you decide to go off by yourself.”

“Understood,” Nines agreed before looking back at the display.

Gavin, a little caught off guard by the quick acquiescence, followed his gaze and promptly felt his eyebrows almost shoot off his face. Nines was looking at a piercing jewellery display. There were silver and gold nose rings arranged in a short tower along with tongue studs and lip bars, next to an album of different belly piercings and nipple piercings and- uh…

“Should they have pictures like that where kids can see them?” Asked Tina, obviously having spotted that photo too. Nines looked down at it, his LED flashed yellow for a split second.

“Is that what you meant by ‘it depends where you get them?” He asked looking at Gavin.

“Wait, what?” Asked Tina, also now looking at Gavin.

If the ground split open and swallowed him whole at that moment, Gavin wouldn’t have complained. But, alas, it didn’t. It stayed solid and stable, like the motherfucking piece of rock it was.

“Thinking of getting a piercing, Nines?” He asked instead, not looking at Tina for fear of what she’d see in his face. “How’d that even work? Can you pierce whatever you’re made from?”

“The outer shell of my body is comprised of a flexible polymer. In theory, I should be able to pierce it, but that applies only the surface. I wouldn’t be able to have the majority of these piercings,” Nines said, apparently accepting Gavin’s awful attempt at redirecting the conversation as he turned away, facing the display once more.

Gavin thought about this answer then looked at the pictures too.

“Can’t androids change how their skin looks?” Asked Tina from the other side of Nines now, having also seemingly given Gavin a pass. She was looking at the belly button piercings on display. “You could make it _look_ like you’ve got an ear piercing of something.”

“Or you could pierce your eyebrow, that’s something that shouldn’t go below the skin, or the polymer whatever," Gavin added on, casually slouching against the side of the display. 

“Do androids get piercings much?” Tina asked Gavin at the same time as Nines asked:

“Should I get a piercing?”

 Okay, that was enough. Gavin straightened up.

“Why you two asking me? A. How the hell should I know? And B. That’s your choice, Nines, not mine.”

Although, oddly enough, the thought of the usually straight-laced Nines with a piercing was starting to grow on Gavin. Fuck if he knew why.

“I will think on it,” decided Nines.

They started walking away. Tina bumping shoulders with Nines and making him smile at the friendly action. Gavin looked away, grinning to himself, and leaned behind Nines to grab his bags from Tina, brushing his arm up against Nines and somehow forgetting to move away after he got the bag. He swung it lightly with every step.

“So… what was that about you and piercings, Gav?”

Gavin’s grin dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I’m thinking of maybe doing a Nines POV Chapter. Perhaps as the last one. It’d be cool to explore his thought processes more in depth.  
> Also, I am *super* looking forward to your reactions to the next chapter I have planned ;)
> 
> Next lesson:  
> Revenge


	17. Lesson 15: Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gavin should really throw out expired food, Nines knows loads of reindeer facts and both discover that revenge is a dish best served with milkshakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which you guys can tell what time of year I was plotting out this chapter. I thought about calling this one ‘Surprises’ for reasons you will see soon enough but I suppose that’s not the lesson Nines is learning. Also revenge is a much cooler chapter title 😎
> 
> Song: ‘Milkshake’ by Kelis.  
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=y2SZPb7UUtc

* * *

 

_The air was hot and humid. Gavin couldn’t feel it but he could tell by the thin, warm mist drifting across the ceiling above him. The soft fog obscured the red draperies and old fashioned chandelier, but Gavin still knew they were there. Just like how he knew that Nines was about to step out on stage. He turned to face the large wooden platform, along with countless others who stood beside him, all waiting for the show to start, all standing still, their faces blank and expressionless._

_A spotlight shone down, and Nines stepped forward._

_“You,” he said._

_Everyone started to laugh. Nines nodded like he expected this, face deadpan. Then he spotted Gavin._

_“Gavin, you’ve done it wrong.”_

_Someone in the audience started hooting with laughter. Gavin glared at them then turned back to Nines who now had a large pair of pearl earrings on._

_“You’re not allowed in here without a piercing. You need to get a piercing.”_

_“I already have one,” said Gavin but he didn’t show it. He didn’t want to get thrown out._

_Someone tapped Gavin on the shoulder, and he turned around. It was Nines again, holding out a black and grey feather for Gavin to look at._

_“Gavin, can you teach me to fly? No one will like me unless I can fly.”_

_“I can’t teach you to fly! You’re made of plastic!”_

_“But I need to do it, Gavin. You can start by teaching me how to dance.”_

_“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be doing a show?” Gavin asked, turning back to the stage._

_It wasn’t Nines up there now. It was Hank._

_He leaned into the mic, glared at the audience and started to chant: “balls,” in a deep, gravelly monotone, over and over again._

_The crowd were no longer laughing but they were clapping, all together, all as one, a quick:_ * ** _clapclapclapkclapkclackclackclockclockclockcknockknockknockknockknoc-_** *

Gavin opened his eyes and jolted up, eyes wide and wild. Nines was stood at the bedroom door, staring at him like the freak he was and steadily knocking on the door frame.

“Fucks sake,” Gavin hissed, thumping back into his pillow and pulling the duvet over his head. That was the last time he drank out-of-date milk before going to bed. “Are you really there Nines? Or am I still in a fucked-up dream?”

“I am here, Gavin. I need your help with something,” came Nines’s slightly muffled reply.

Gavin groaned angrily.

“I’ve brought you coffee.”

Gavin groaned interestedly.

“And breakfast.”

“… _Fine_. Lemme get dressed.”

 

* * *

 

Nines was acting weird. Well, _weirder_ than usual. He wasn’t talking much as they drove along and he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in a restless, annoying way that Gavin had _definitely_ not taught him. It took Gavin longer than usual to clock onto all this though, as half of him was still asleep and the rest of him was focused on demolishing his bacon and cheese turnover.  

Now that the food and coffee were gone, it started to click that Nines hadn’t told Gavin what he needed help with or even where the hell they were going.

“Where’re we going?”

“To the beach.”

Gavin frowned out of the front window of the car, at the view of the steely grey water they were driving towards, at the rain splattering down on the glass and the dark clouds looming above.

“ _Why_ are we-”

“We’re here.”

Nines smoothly swung the car into one of numerous free parking spaces and all but leaped out of the vehicle.

“What the fuck?” Gavin mouthed to himself before getting out and following him. He had to walk fast, Nines was already halfway to the sandy beach, marching there like a man on a mission. Gavin caught up with him just as Nines came to a stop, staring at the choppy, cold waves and the faint mist of sea spray that hovered over the water. In the not-so-distant distance, Cyberlife tower could be seen, looming out of the mist. Dark, silent and abandoned. There was no sound of machinery working, or the old clunking of transport trucks along the thin bridge off Belle Isle. All there was to be heard was the whispered hiss of water rushing over sand, the cawing of gulls and the distant sound of traffic echoing out from the city. It was strangely peaceful, in a gloomy, rainy kind of way.

“What the hell are we doing here?”

Well, it would have been peaceful if Gavin hadn’t been there, rainwater dribbling miserably down his nose and a grumpy glower heavy on his face.

Nines stared at the water, then at Gavin, then back to the water again.

“This isn’t working,” he announced, before turning around and marching back to the car.

“What the fuck?” Gavin repeated, aloud this time, before following Nines.

As soon as he shut the door and put his belt on (at Nines’s pointed look), Nines reversed out in one quick swoop and started speeding off again.

“We’re going back to my flat now, right?” Gavin prompted, sniffing pointedly and doing his best to squeeze the water from his hair. Nines glanced at him then turned the heating up to full blast.

“No.”

Gavin glare-stared at Nines, who was either ignoring him or honest to god hadn’t noticed that the sopping wet human sat next to him was giving him the evils.

“ _No_? For fucks sake, Nines, it’s eight in the morning, on a _Sunday_!” He exclaimed, waving his hands in the air for emphasis. “I need my lie-in. I thought you said you needed help.”

“I do, Gavin,” said Nines, driving quickly over a crossroad before the traffic lights could change to red. “But I can take you back if that is what you wish.”

When Gavin didn’t say anything to that, the car slowed, like Nines was really going to stop and turn around just because Gavin wanted to go back to bed.

“No, s’fine,” Gavin muttered, slouching down in his seat and looking away, out of the steamed-up window. He caught sight of Nines nodding from the corner of his eye before suddenly spinning the wheel sharply to the left, making Gavin slide in his seat. Ugh. He couldn’t believe he was thinking this, but he missed Nines’s granny driving.

It soon became obvious where Nines was going this time when he turned left onto the coastal road, following signs to William G. Milliken State Park. The fuck was so important about these places?

The rain was coming down in torrents now, hammering against the roof of the car like the heavens themselves were chucking down nails or something. Nines parked the car in the (again) empty car park by the harbour and opened his door to get out, only to stop when Gavin grabbed him by the scruff of his black turtleneck and yanked him back in.

“You’ve got another thing coming if you think I’m going out in this. What’s going on?”

Nines didn’t answer straight away, his foot still halfway out the door and already soaked to the silicone skin. Then, slowly, he pulled his dripping leg back in and shut the door. The sound of rain became less clear but not any less deafening. Great, fat drops of water beat down on the car like it was a percussion instrument, the drumming symphony filling up the steamy, enclosed air. Gavin pulled his hand back and Nines turned to face him.

“I have been trying to find a hobby. I thought travelling or visiting new places might have been a good choice, but it didn’t work.”

Gavin closed his eyes and let out a long, put-upon groan. “ _This_ is what you needed me for?”

“Yes,” said Nines, simply. “I didn’t enjoy any of the places I visited alone… but with you, it is another matter.”

Gavin’s eyes snapped open.

“I like doing things with you,” Nines continued, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and watching as rivers of rainwater washed down the windscreen. “I liked going to the cafés, I liked going to the bar and I liked being surprised with the comedy show. It makes me happy to spend time with you.”

…Well, shit. What could Gavin say to that?

Nothing, that’s what. His usually sharp and spiky mind was drawing a blank of how to react to someone genuinely saying they _liked_ spending time with _him_. The friends thing? That was fine: Gavin had friends. The hugs? Strange, slightly uncomfortable, but he could deal. _This_? Error, fucking error. 

Witty rejoinder program? Not operational.

Sarcasm generator? Failed.

Any-fucking-thing-to-say-at-all-to-fill-this-fucking-silence backup drive? Haha. **Nope**.

“Errh,” he said, brain to mouth filter failing due to lack of brain.

Luckily, Nines didn’t notice Gavin’s spectacular zombie impression, and was instead frowning down at his hands, which were now clasped tightly together on his lap.

“But it didn’t work today. I am not enjoying this.”

Brain reboot commencing FUCKING NOW!

“You- uh, when we-” Gavin cleared his throat and tried again. “Look, all that stuff we did before- well, we were actually _doing_ something then. Right now, we’re just staring at fog and rain. ‘ _Course_ you wouldn’t enjoy this.”

Nines gave him a wide, doe-eyed look and Gavin rolled his eyes. It seemed it wasn’t only him in dire need of a brain reboot. Gavin fished out his phone from his pocket and did a quick web search. When the brain fails: try Google.

“Okay, found one,” he said, putting away the phone before Nines could finish leaning over to take a peak. “Let’s swap, I’m gonna drive us there.”

“Where are we going?” Nines asked, already opening the door.

“Thought you liked surprises,” Gavin answered with a wink.

 

* * *

 

Grainy Christmas music filled the air, echoing out from the cheap string of speakers wired along the row of Christmas stalls. It was accompanied by the now lighter pitter patter of rain and the music coming from several buskers and charity groups. They were all playing a mishmash of different songs, such as jingle bell rock and Good King Wenceslas, on a range of different instruments from old fashioned brass trumpets and violins to the more modern electric guitars and dubstep cubes. It all melded together into a strange, but festive background of white noise, along with the droning sound of the shoppers’ chatter and the cacophony of children swarming over the nearby makeshift ice rink.

In all, it was busy, it was loud and it was _really_ not Gavin’s style. Nines however, going by the wide-eyed look he had going on, was delighted, so Gavin sucked it up and took him to look at the reindeer.

“Did you know that reindeer are the only large mammal able to metabolise lichen?” Asked Nines as they stared at the animals pawing at the ground inside their paddock, munching on hay and occasionally snorting out large clouds of steam into the cold air. “They are also ruminants which means they have four chambers in their stomachs.”

“Yeah, totally knew that,” nodded Gavin, who’s knowledge of reindeer began and ended with them being the ones to pull Santa’s sleigh. “These ones are androids though; they probably don’t have that.”

“No, they don’t,” agreed Nines, still staring curiously at them. “I wonder why they did not use real reindeer. Due to conservation efforts in Canada and Greenland, they are not currently on the endangered list.”

Gavin shrugged, bracing his arms on the wooden fence, being careful not to put his cast on any wet bits and watching as one of the android creatures on the other side of the paddock sniffed curiously at a giggling boy’s hand.

“Suppose real-” Gavin cut himself off suddenly and re-thought what he was about to say. “Uh, non-android reindeer would probably hate it here: too much noise, too many people. They’d get scared. Besides, these’re still cute.”

Gavin just said the word cute in a sentence. _Gavin Reed_ just used the word cute un-ironically. What the hell? He glanced over at Nines; he was no longer looking at the reindeer. He was looking at Gavin instead, eyes lidded and a soft, upwards quirk pulling at his lips.

Gavin leaned back and crossed his arms, fingers tapping on his cast.

“You, uh, enjoying yourself now?”

“Yes.”

“Uh, okay, good.”

“Are you?”

“...Yeah.”

“I’m glad.”

“Right.”

Gavin tapped his foot and looked back at the android animals. Nines was still watching him, he could tell.

“C’mon, I need something to drink. I’m freezing my balls off here.”

 

* * *

 

Nines insisted on buying Gavin his hot drink (because of course he did) and soon they were wondering around the stalls. Gavin sipped at his cup of mulled cider, holding it tightly to his chest to keep the odd drip of rainwater from getting in, and did his best to explain Christmas to Nines.

“Are you religious, Gavin?”

“Christmas isn’t _really_ about religion- well, no, that’s a lie. For a lot of people it is. I guess I’m just in it for the presents.”

“I see.”

“And you, Nines? D’you think you’ll be celebrating it? I mean you didn’t seem interested in Thanksgiving.”

Nines hummed noncommittally and picked up a small plastic snow globe, shaking it gently and silently watching the little clumps of foam and glitter swirl. Gavin watched Nines watch the fake snow settle and looked away with a frown, only to pause and grin as he noticed the selection of cheesy Christmas themed hats. He downed the rest of his cider and picked up the best one.

“ _Nines_.”

Nines glanced over and froze, hand hovering in the air, halfway to putting the snow globe back down. Gavin grinned and bobbed his head to the side, the reindeer attached to his head bobbing along with him.

“It looks like I got my head up its ass!”

Nines continued to stare, then his expression slowly changed, lips parting over white teeth. He let out an amused huff of air and Gavin laughed with him before picking up a turkey dinner hat and stuffing it on his head. Nines leaned down slightly, giving Gavin a better angle to do it again when the hat almost fell off. He was still smiling.

“Your face is gonna get stuck like that,” Gavin teased as he straightened up, gently nudging Nines with his elbow.

“I can think of worse fates,” Nines returned, plucking the reindeer hat off Gavin’s head and running a hand over his messed-up hair.

“Get off,” Gavin snorted, batting away Nines’s hand.

“Oi! You fags gonna buy those or what?”

Gavin’s smile faded. He glanced at the stall keeper glaring across the counter at them, at the way his broad, red hands clenched into fists, and his dark eyes narrowed and twitched, flickering over to the other man sat beside him. He was even larger than the first guy, with bulging bare arms held behind his head and his feet up on the table. Gavin stared at them both for a long moment before turning away, his arms now crossed and lips pressed tightly together. If he were alone right now, he’d probably be grinning, making smarmy comments or hamming up the gay to provoke a response so he could arrest a bastard for assaulting a police officer. But he _wasn’t_ alone. He turned to face Nines, ready to clearly and obviously blank the bastards out and not give them the ~~provocation~~ satisfaction of a direct reaction. However, that was not to be. 

Nines’s smile had changed. It had gone from light and soft to dark and sharp. He picked off his hat, tossed both at the surly shop keeper and said, in a cool tone:

“‘Or what,’ asshole.”

The stall keeper started to stand up, red face growing redder and sneer growing to show gritted teeth, and Gavin grabbed Nines’s arm.

“C’mon, let’s go check out the ice rink.”

It was only when they were out of earshot that Gavin let go of Nines’s arm and ran his hands down his face.

“I’ve been a bad influence on you, haven’t I?”

“Perhaps. I don’t believe so though. You seem to have found my reaction amusing.”

Gavin rolled his eyes and turned to face Nines head on, crossing his arms and frowning.

“You saying asshole was funny, I’ll admit. But that guy was a _homophobic_ asshole, built like a brick house and had even bigger backup. He thought-” Gavin stopped and looked away, arms hanging loosely by his sides now. “Well, uh, he looked like he was gonna punch you Nines. _That’s_ not funny.”

“He would break his hand before he broke my face. It could be funny.”

… Okay, Gavin could admire the badassery of that statement. But he still didn’t want to see Nines punched. Ever. Even the thought of it made something in his stomach clench.

“Whatever. Just don’t mess with people like that when you’re alone.”

“So I can provoke and hassle close-minded humans when I’m with you?” Nines inquired, head tilting to the side.

“Uh, maybe. Just as long as you don’t end up with your face or mine shoved in a wall or some shit.”

Nines nodded, expression thoughtful and looked back at the stall keeper, who was smirking and saying something to his friend as he lounged back in his cheap plastic chair.

Nines’s LED flashed yellow.

The rather crackly music of WHAM’s ‘Last Christmas’ that had been sluggishly playing the last few minutes suddenly cut off from one of the speakers, to be replaced with an ear-burstingly loud opening of a rather old and rather familiar song.

“ ** _My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard_**.”

Gavin sharply turned to face the source of the music, eyes widening as he realised the song was screaming out only from the speaker atop the asshole’s stall.

“ ** _And they're like, it’s better than yours_**.”

Said asshole was standing up, face red with embarrassment and fury, trying to reach the speaker attached to the top of the hut and failing. A large number of shoppers were drifting to a stop and staring; some were laughing.

“ ** _Damn right, it’s better than yours_**.”

Gavin turned back to Nines, positivity gawking at him. Nines met his gaze, expression blank and deadpan in the most unconvincingly innocent way.

 ** _“I can teach you, but I have to charge_**.”

“I wonder if that song will be stuck on a loop all day,” Nines mused as the song continued, hands clasped behind his back and a steady look of satisfaction in his otherwise stoic gaze. 

 **“ _I know you want it. The thing that makes me, what the guys go crazy for_** _._ ”

Distantly, Gavin could feel himself grin. The wind was cold on his teeth, his cheeks ached  and his chest felt strangely warm, despite the chill. He didn’t pay much mind to any of this though, simply staring at Nines as the ridiculous overtures of Kelis Rogers’ ‘Milkshakes’ were belted out around them.

“ ** _La la-la la la. Warm it up_**.”

Nines’s lips twitched, like he was fighting against a smile. It was a losing battle though as soon he was smiling back, soft lips parting over white, shiny teeth.  

“ ** _Lala-lalala, the boys are waiting_**.”

And Gavin realised he might just be a little bit in love.

“ ** _Shake it up_**.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😘
> 
> Next lesson:  
> Jealousy


	18. Lesson 16: Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gavin is not subtle, Janice from forensics is thirsty, and drinks are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly different posting day and time this time. I thought it'd be better to post early as I won't be able to do any posting over the next two weeks or so due to family stuff. Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> p.s. THANKS SO MUCH FOR HELPING ME GET OVER 1000 KUDOS! YOU GUYS ARE A M A Z I N G

* * *

 

Gavin stared at Nines, at the way he smiled, at the way his hands moved through the air, punctuating his words, and at how his round, silver eyes widened as he listened to the people around him talk. He stared at Nines and swallowed dryly, fingers digging into his palms. Gavin probably thought he was being subtle about the whole staring thing. He wasn’t. His work hadn’t been touched for a good half an hour now, no matter how he made it look by drumming his fingers lightly across the keyboard.

Luckily, no one spared a lick of attention for Gavin and his android ogling ways. _Unluckily_ , all their attention was on Nines instead. Wait, no, not unluckily. Gavin looked away with a small frown at the dark thoughts spiralling round his head, then glanced back to Nines and the small circle of police personnel he’d gathered around him. He was talking with them, nodding and smiling in an interested way as Brown seemingly told him a joke.

“So, you got any plans this evening?” Gavin heard Janice from forensics ask, her head tilted to the side, fingers twirling a lock of hair and eyes boring a hole into Nine’s face.

Where was Gavin’s bat when he needed it?

“Yes, I do. I am meeting with someone,” Nines replied with a happy nod before turning around and smiling even more as he caught sight of Connor approaching. “Good afternoon, Connor.”

“Good afternoon, Nines,” Connor returned with a warm smile, seamlessly joining the chattering group like he had always been there.

Fuck if Gavin could figure out when or how this happened, but Connor was suddenly acting a lot more friendly towards Nines these days. It seemed to start when Gavin was off at the hospital, finally getting his cast removed (thank the fucking Lord). When he’d come back, Nines had a bounce in his step that looked like he’d attached fricking pogo sticks to his legs and was gushing non-fucking-stop about Connor. Gavin, who _really_ didn’t care about hearing Connor’s second-hand apology or the comprehensive detail on how he accepted Nines’s, had listened, smiled and congratulated Nines with a clap on the back.

It was an unfortunate side-effect to this whole forgiveness thing that a lot of the mindless sheep that bulked out the force took Connor’s change in attitude as a sign that ‘hey perhaps the kind, dark and handsome android we’ve been treating like a fucking leper isn’t that bad after all’. And then they descended.

Like locusts.

It wasn’t just the sheep either. Even Hank was acting less cantankerous around Nines. Connor, _again_ , was probably behind that but the sudden dearth of death glares was impressive to say the least. The whole thing was seriously annoying though. Gavin spent ages trying to help Nines out, teaching him how to walk the walk, talk the talk and smile the not-scare-the-piss-out-of-people smile, and Connor just snaps his fucking fingers and _everyone_ likes him? And **who** had Nines made plans with? Why didn’t Gavin know about this? He was glad it wasn’t Janice (who, to Gavin’s mind, was the personification of the word bitch) but it was still… annoying.

Perhaps it was Connor, trying to get to know Nines better now he’d figured out he had made an honest mistake with that whole interfacing incident. That… would make sense. Gavin mentally smacked himself again, quickly hiding his glowering face behind his computer as Nines smiled around the group, eyes alight with enthusiasm and carefully contained excitement.

“Fucking stop it, Gavin,” he muttered, trying to force a somewhat pleasant smile onto his face for when Nines next looked over to him with a ‘can you believe this?’ expression plastered on his face. He got it up just in time for Nines to glance his way once more with wide eyes and an even wider smile. Gavin gave him a subtle thumbs up and a painfully strained grin.

“What’s up, Gav?”

Gavin jumped near a foot off his seat and span around with wide eyes. Tina was stood next to him, leaning back with an open mouth and a hand held to her chest, obviously startled at Gavin’s sudden movement.

“The heck?” She eloquently asked.

“It’s nothing,” Gavin grunted running his now cast-less right hand down his face and letting out a tight sigh. Tina, of course, called bullshit on this, but politely because she didn’t swear much as a rule.

“Gavin, what’s going on?”

“ _Nothing_.”

“Are you… okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Gavin, feeling terrible.

Tina hummed disbelievingly and opened her mouth, most likely to try prying again, only to be interrupted by the sharp slap of a case file hitting Gavin’s desk. Gavin looked up to see a rather delighted looking Collins standing beside Tina.

“Fowler said you’re up for your own cases now,” he said, passing the message on with a clear show of satisfaction. “Got a homicide for you, Reed. Have fun.”

Gavin picked up the folder, the air of resigned misery that had been hovering around him all morning, temporarily fading away in the face of a case. A _proper_ case. _Fucking finally!_ He pulled the file apart and a wasted no time flicking through it for the address.

“Double homicide! Fuck yeah! See ya later, Tina,” he laughed, jumping up and yanking on his coat. He glanced around, half thinking of waltzing up to Nines to boast about it with a hair ruffle and a shit eating grin, only to pause as he saw Nines laughing with Connor. _Actually_ laughing. It wasn’t a huff of air, or a soft smile. Nines could laugh.

It sounded good.

For a few moments, Gavin didn’t move. He stared at the group, feet rooted to the ground. Then he swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat, nodded to himself and turned away. He had work to do.  

 

* * *

 

 Had civilians always been so fucking obnoxious?

“So, you _don’t_ know what they were doing,” he repeated, staring down the witness as he nonchalantly leaned against the park fence.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ and shrugging. Gavin was starting to see why the first responders dismissed him as a potential witness. Gavin was starting to wish he listened to them. He took in a deep breath, fought down the tick of his eye and forced his grimace into something that _somewhat_ resembled a polite (gritted) smile.

“And you stated you saw them running after a dog.”

“Uh, yeah maybe? It could’ve been a squirrel.”

“A squirrel.”

“Yeah, I dunno. They were running or moving fast or something. They were probably chasing something. Or maybe going off to get high.”

“…”

“I mean they totally looked shifty.”

The victims were an elderly couple, one who wore a floral dress, the other in denim overalls. Gavin squinted at the witness the police officers failed to get anything good out of, and wondered (not for the first time) if he was the one high on something. He gave the moron one more, rather strained nod and turned away before the urge to throttle grew too large.

Ugh. Just over an hour in to his first case in months and he already needed a drink. Whatever, he wasn’t getting anything else from the scene. It would take a few days for the toxicology report and autopsy to get back.

Gavin considered going back to the precinct. But, by the time he’d have got back to the station, he’d be off the clock anyway. All he’d be doing back there would be typing up a report, which he could easily do on his laptop, and watching everyone and their dog cosy up to Nines.

The choice was clear: Gavin was getting a drink.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t end up going to that same bar he and Nines went to that one time. He had thought about it, but ultimately knew he wouldn’t. Just the idea of going there alone felt… odd. Besides, he wasn’t going out properly. There was no need for fancy flashing lights or a dance floor. He’d only be having the one drink… probably.

He ended up going to the Blue Bloom, a bar about three blocks away from his place. Gavin had no idea why it was called that. Everything inside was black not blue, from the marble bar to the drink stained, velvet chairs. The only thing blue about it was the sign outside and _nothing_ was blooming. There _was_ a vase of flowers on one of the shelves behind the sleek, glittering black bar top, but they were probably plastic. There was hardly enough light in the place to see ten feet in front of your face; some dainty little flowers wouldn’t stand a chance.

Gavin took another swig of his drink in the quiet seclusion on his booth, swallowing down a wince with it at the burning sensation scorching its way down. He could feel the heat of it coiling in his stomach and tickling down his limbs, making his fingers warm and numb.

Damn, he didn’t want to go back to the flat yet. He knew he would have to; the cats wouldn’t feed themselves, but he didn’t _want_ to. When was the last time he went out? _Properly_ out? The kind of out where your feet ached and your body thrummed with music, just dancing like you were twenty-one again. Perhaps Tina would be up for a club night sometime soon. He should ask her…

Gavin let out a long, exhausted sigh and took another sip of his drink, eyes trailing across the black painted brick archway above his head, then to the thick, red curtains at the front, covering what was presumably a window which had never let any light in. Gavin looked away, leaning back against his seat and gazing back up at the ceiling, fingers running across the rim of his glass.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

Startled, Gavin straightened up and looked across the booth. A dark-haired woman was sitting down, her blue eyes glittering in the low light and a small, wry smile curling at her red lips.

Gavin didn’t say anything. He put the drink down, watching the golden liquid inside it swirl and steady, then looked up at the woman across from him. She had leaned forward now, arms braced on the circular table top, hands close to his. Her smile was large, confident. It wasn’t goofy in the least, no shark-like grins or warm, quiet upturn.

“Name’s Lexi. Mind if I buy you another drink?” She asked, leaning forward and running a hand over the shoulders of Gavin’s crumpled jacket, straightening the lapels.

A few months back, Gavin would have been saying yes so fast he’d trip over his own tongue. A few weeks back, Gavin would have nodded and grinned in a cocky way, and then probably felt guilty for the rest of the night for some unknown reason. Now, Gavin simply shook his head.

No. She was beautiful and confident and had an air of kickass about her. She was what he once one hundred percent considered his type and he… just wasn’t interested.

“Sorry,” he said, standing up and leaving his half-drunk whiskey on the table. “I’m not looking for a drink right now.”

She looked disappointed. Hell if Gavin could figure out why. He hesitated, looking at the exit then back at the woman. He gave her a slightly awkward but clearly friendly, clap on the shoulder, making her eyebrows rocket up in surprise.

“Have a good one.”

And off he went, clenched fists shoved into his pockets and face red enough to glow as he made his way past the bar and out into the bitingly cold December night. It was lighter out there by the grace of an orange, neon lamp. It wasn’t snowing yet, but he could feel the ice crystallising in his lungs with every deep breath. He let out a long sigh, smiling at the curl of steam swirling up from his chapped lips to the neon stained sky. Yeah, it was late, time to suck it up and go home. His cats and a lonely evening by himself were waiting.

 

* * *

 

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he could hear the damn cats meowing through the walls of the flat. They seemed to have a sixth sense for when he got in. Either that or they could hear the elevator and got that excited whenever anyone went up to the same floor. They weren’t screeching quite as loud today though. Gavin opened the door, to find them waiting semi-patiently a few feet away, instead of instantly launching themselves at his legs and begging for food like they always did when he was late back (never mind the fact that he left enough dried kibble out to last them a week if needed.)

“Hello, Gavin.”

 _Ah. That explained it,_ some distant part of his mind thought while the rest of him concentrated on not going into cardiac arrest.

“ _Holy_ _fuck_!”

Nines was stood just outside the kitchen, empty cat food tin in hand, giving Gavin a wide-eyed look. “I’m sorry. Did I startle you? Last time you said I shouldn’t wait outside.”

Oh, right, when Nines had been waiting outside his flat for over two hours like an obsessive puppy.

“So you broke in and waited inside instead,” Gavin clarified, one hand still clamped to his chest, the other bracing him against the wall. Nines nodded.

Nines was damned lucky Gavin loved him or he would be out on his ass at this point.

 _Wait, no, not love._ Gavin ran a hand over his flushing face and looked away. _Crush_. _It’s just a stupid crush._

“I, uh, heard you talkin’ earlier. Thought you had plans tonight.”

Nines tilted his head to the side, looking confused. “Yes, I planned to see you. I-” Nines cut off suddenly, eyes falling on the lapels of Gavin’s jacket then to his hand. He met Gavin’s bewildered gaze, his own expression shuttering.

“You were out with a woman.”

Gavin, who’s head was currently a melting pot of joy and confusion (with the words ‘I planned to see you’ loudly ringing through his skull) gave this one of the most eloquent and poignant responses to ever grace his lips.

“Ghuh?”

“You were out with a woman,” Nines repeated, seemingly recognising the question in the gobbledygook, his voice stiff and face set in a deep frown.

Gavin just stared. How did he know? Why was he _angry_ about th- wait … the shuttered expression, the accusative tone? Was this… jealousy? No, Nines couldn’t be jealous. _R_ _ight?_ He thought carefully about what he was going to say next. Gavin needed to be sure about this.

“There was a woman,” he started, eyes intent on Nines’s face as a blank look swallowed up his features. “But we only talked. I wasn’t interested in her.”

The tension in Nines’s frame melted away and Gavin had to school himself into not reacting.

 _H o l y  s h i t_. Nines had been jealous. Gavin didn’t know what to do with this. What the fuck was he supposed to do with this?

“C’mon, let’s watch something,” his autopilot decided to pipe up, coming to the rescue for once and making him turn on the TV. Nines sat down with him, leg brushing against his and Gavin had to really concentrate on keeping his breathing steady. He didn’t move away though. Instead he passed Nines the remote. 

“Let’s see how your taste in TV is coming. What you wanna watch?”

Nines considered this for a moment before changing the channel to a re-run of the recent ‘Great British Bake Off’ finale. Gavin should’ve known. A show all about kind bakers helping each other out and cooking to soft, classical music would be right up Nines’s alley. Not a hint of swearing to be seen. Even if Nines seemed to put up with foul language from Gavin and sometimes even said some himself (the memory of him saying ‘asshole’ to those Christmas market bastards still made Gavin smile), he didn’t seem _overly_ fond of it. Gavin decided not to tease Nines about his choice. Instead he picked up Kit, who was prowling by his feet, and held him out for Nines with a smirk.

“Want a Kit-cat?”

Nines gave a soft huff of amusement and gently took the wriggling feline and placed him on his lap.

“You enjoy name puns, don’t you?” Nines smiled, running his hand over Kit with practiced movements. Firm enough to satisfy him yet gentle enough not to hurt like Nines used to worry about. Kit melted into his lap, purring loudly as Nines’s warm hands worked through his fur. Gavin didn’t answer. He was too busy staring at those hands and thinking.

“Your laugh,” he paused, trying to figure out how to say this without coming across as weird. “It’s, uh, different. You know, to what I heard when you were with Connor. You had a different laugh.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Eh?”

Nines continued to stare at the TV screen where the bakers were piping on icing patterns across their wedding cakes and chattering happily. He was frowning but didn’t stop petting the blissed-out Kit.

“He made a joke about work. I didn’t find it that funny, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Do you think he noticed I was pretending to laugh?” He looked around at that, worried.  Gavin’s voice curled up in his throat and died for a brief moment before abruptly being kicked back to life by his rebooting brain.

“… No! I- _no_ , I don’t think he did.”

“That’s a relief,” Nines stated, the frown melting off his face as he turned back to the show. Gavin followed suit, directing his gaze towards the show but not really taking any of it in.

‘ _I planned to see you.’_

 **Okay** _._

_‘You were out with a woman.’_

**Right** _._

 _‘I was pretending to laugh._ ’

**Fuck.**

Gavin leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, heat radiating off his face like furnace with a fever. He glanced down at his legs, at how his and Nines’s were still touching. He looked up at Nines who was still watching the show, smiling faintly at the screen as someone complimented a sponge or some shit. Fuck it. Gavin was tired, he was ever so slightly buzzed and he just- he wanted _this_. So, yeah, fuck it. He would take a risk, just a small one.

He shuffled closer to Nines, his arm pressed against him, and slowly, ever so slowly, Gavin rested his head on his shoulder. Nines didn’t move, there was no reaction. Gavin held still and forced himself to keep staring at the TV, his shoulders hunched, and jaw clenched. Then a hand crept up and softly threaded itself into his hair, achingly warm fingers slowly sweeping through. Gavin let out a long breath and the tension eased from his body, melted away by that warm hand. He closed his eyes. He didn’t know what Nines wanted. He didn’t know if this was just friendship from him, or if there was something else going on here, but he could have this. Just for a moment, Gavin could let himself have this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next lesson:  
> Dancing
> 
> (Edit: THANKS FOR THE GREAT COMMENTS HERE. I am about to head off on holiday so I won't be able to reply to everyone till I get back, but I will do it as soon as possible)


	19. Lesson 17: Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which even more drinks are consumed, Gavin is an idiot and ‘dancing’ happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly at the end guys!!!
> 
> Song: 'Kiwi' by Harry Styles. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9wg3v-01yKQ 
> 
> (I was torn between this song and Miracle by Caravan Paradise coz wow (taken out of context) some of those lyrics really suit those two. Except the drug references. In the end I chose Kiwi as the lyrics were shorter and didn’t interrupt the flow of the story, but if you prefer the other song, feel free to imagine that there instead. Or whatever song you like. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=XRP9k9nlAfE )

* * *

 

Gavin woke up with a jolt. A cat to the face tended to have that effect on him.

“Exiiiie,” he moaned, shoving the cat off and rolling over, only to roll right off the couch.  Later, Gavin would tell himself he gave a startled yell at this, perhaps even a deep, manly bellow if he was feeling generous. He didn’t. He screamed. Luckily, it was a short-lived scream, by the grace that he fell face first and the rest of it was muffled by the carpet. Unfortunately, this was where his luck ran out.

“Gavin! Are you hurt?”

What the-? Fuck! Oh hell! When did Gavin fell asleep last night? _Where_ did he fall asleep? Quickly, Gavin scrambled up, only to almost fall again as the blanket that had been tucked around him decided to do a cat impression and weave between his legs. Nines reached out and steadied him before he could face plant once more.

“You put a blanket on me.”

_Error! Error! Brain to mouth filter not operational. Please fuckin’ try again._

“Uh, I- you’re _here_. Why are you-” Gavin cut off, realising that Nines was still holding him by the shoulders, staring down at him with no little measure of concern. Gavin took a quick step back, almost tripping over the blanket again. “I- I need a coffee.”

The confusion melted away on Nines’s face. He nodded seriously instead, like he’d expected as much.

“Of course. I’ve made you some already, Gavin.”

“…You what?”

“I made you coffee,” Nines repeated, speaking slightly louder. “And some scrambled eggs.”

Nines made him breakfast. Nines made _him_ breakfast.

“…Okay,” said Gavin, following Nines to the kitchen counter divider on a jerky autopilot, still in the middle of yet another brain reboot. Memories from last night, were starting to filter through his skull. He didn’t remember falling asleep, last thing he remembered was leaning on Nines’s shoulder and the feeling of his fingers running through his hair and, yeah, he fell asleep on Nines.

**_Fuck_**.

“Uh, look, about last night-”

“Thank you for having me around,” interrupted Nines, passing Gavin a plate of scrambled eggs, over easy, just how he liked them. “I reviewed our actions after you fell asleep and realised that you had a busy day and weren’t expecting my company. It was kind of you to invite me to stay even when you were tired. I wanted to repay that kindness.”

Gavin did _what_ now? Wait- something about that sounded famil- Fuck **.** Oh, fuck him! Gavin remembered feeling warm and exhausted and someone saying something to him and he-

“‘ _Stay, don’t go. It’s too late to go so stay. Stay here with me_ ,’ you told me,” Nines quoted, confirming Gavin’s fears. “That was alright, wasn’t it? Should I have gone?”

Nines looked a bit worried, his LED spinning yellow and kicking Gavin out of his glazed stupor.

“No, it’s… it’s _fine_. You’re fine.”

Nines nodded, LED circling back to blue, and sat across from Gavin, watching him expectantly until Gavin got the memo and started digging a fork into the food.

“S’good,” said Gavin, which was sort of true. It could do with a little more milk and maybe some pepper but hell if Gavin was going to say that with Nines sat there, grinning his stupid shark grin like he won the lottery or some shit.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nines asked, smile fading as he reached out for Gavin’s forehead. “You look flushed.”

“M’fine,” Gavin muttered, ducking the hand and shovelling the rest of his food into his mouth before gulping down the rest of the coffee. “C’mon, let’s get to work.”

 

* * *

 

Nines insisted on driving in that morning which, given Gavin’s sudden lack of focus and tendency to drift off into dazes of bewildered confusion, was fine by him. Nines had made him breakfast. Fucking scrambled eggs. Even his mum didn’t do that; at most she used to just chuck a box of cereal his way and let him get on with it. No one made Gavin-fucking-Reed scrambled eggs. No hugged Gavin, no one got jealous over Gavin and no one stayed the night with Gavin drooling over their shoulder.

Except for Nines.

“-vin? Gavin!”

Gavin looked up from his hands with a snap. Nines was leant forwards, head stupidly close to him, expression concerned.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

The cars in front started moving again; Nines gently put down the gas.

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_.”

“It’s only that I have noticed a marked increase in your heart-rate since-”

“I said I’m fine so I’m fine! I don’t need you mother henning me _, so fuckin’ lay off_!”

Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes. The car hummed along the road.

“…I’m fine, Nines,” Gavin muttered, softer this time. Nines didn’t say anything but he nodded, his tight grip easing on the steering wheel.

They didn’t speak again for the rest of the journey into work. Gavin was no longer half smiling or drifting off into warm dazes. The strange lightness in Gavin’s chest had been replaced by a dense, heavy sensation; like he’d quaffed cement, poured molten metal down his throat or had just yelled at his closest friend for no fucking reason. Gavin glanced uneasily at Nines as they walked into work together. Nines was looking ahead, LED blue and expression calm, seemingly not upset in the slightest. Goddamn it. He should say something. He should-

“Nines!” Called Chris with a grin, waving at him happily. Nines smiled, shoulders loosening like he was shedding off a weight, and walked over to great him. Gavin stared after them, watching as Chris clapped him on the back and started to talk. Nines replied with a larger smile, the words faint and unintelligible to Gavin by the distance between them.

…Even if Nines had felt the same last night, even if he _did_ like Gavin- well, you could count on Gavin to fuck it up. This right here, this is what he did when he was _friends_ with people. What the hell would he end up doing if he somehow conned Nines into thinking he was worth dating?

Gavin needed to stop thinking about this. He was in deep and he was going to mess it up and _he needed to stop thinking…_ Yeah, a break from thinking would be good around about now, maybe by way of drink. And it was with this in mind that he hunted Tina down with a charming grin.

“Wanna hit the town tonight?”

 

* * *

 

It turned out, with a little bit of persuasion, that Tina wanted very much to hit the town. Gavin was just lucky it was a Friday; Tina would never go out during the week. He loved her but she was far too strait-laced sometimes.

But not tonight.

He grinned as he watched her throw her hair back and slide across the dance floor in a stupid Michael Jackson dance move that had Gavin almost pissing himself with laughter. Lights pulsed in time with the music, flashing from hazy blue to blinding white, throwing the edges of the dance floor into harsh relief. Gavin continued to dance, although it was more of a self-conscious shuffle than a dance. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling the soles of his shoes stick to the floor, ripping off the sticky surface with every movement. Nines would hate this…

“Gonna get another drink!” He bellowed at Tina, who squinted confusedly only to nod as Gavin proceeded to mime tossing back an invisible shot glass.

It took frigging ages to get served once he’d weaved through the masses on the dance floor and barged his way through the queues. So, when the barkeep got around to him, he didn’t hesitate to make the order big. Beer wasn’t going to cut it tonight, he needed something stronger. The double vodka mixes were his first mistake, the tequila and Jägermeister shot were his second and the rum was his third and arguably worst.

He came back to the dance floor, remarkably looser in his movements, and threw himself into the dancing. Tina was no longer on the dance floor, instead talking to a girl with a nose ring by the side. Gavin didn’t mind this; there were other people to dance with. Gavin danced, warm bodies dancing with him. He didn’t even see their faces as he moved, gliding away every time a hand went to low or lips ghosted over his. He didn’t want that from these people. He just wanted to dance. Sweat beaded on his skin, not all of it his, and the world grew blurred and hazy. Strobe lights flickered on, masking everyone’s movements, making them look like a choppy cartoon flicker-book, all stiff and robotic in their clunky dancing.

Nines… he should say sorry to Nines. He didn’t mean to be mean when he was _so_ nice. He just didn’t want him to get the wrong idea but he _shouldn’t_ have yelled and he should have said sorry and… Yeah! He should say sorry to Nines. Gavin pushed himself away from his latest dance partner, a short girl with chunky glasses and bright bubblegum pink hair, and made his way to the edge of the dance floor, pulling out his phone as he did so. It only took one ring for Nines to pick up.

“Gavin? Why are you-”

“I’M SORRY!” Gavin yelled into the phone, music deafeningly loud around him and forcing him to raise his voice up to be heard. “I’M SORRY FOR YELLING!”

“Then you should stop.”

“WHAT?!”

“Are you _drunk_ Gavin?” Nines’s voice came louder from the speaker now.

“NO! NO, I’M NOT!”

“Are you alone?”

Gavin paused and looked around. Tina was nowhere to be seen. But no matter, Gavin was sure he’d be able to find her again.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT! I WANTED TO SAY SORRY! FOR EARLIER! I DIDN’T MEAN TO YELL AT YOU IN THE CAR! YOU WERE BEING TOO FUCKIN’ NICE AND I DIDN’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE OTHER STUFF!”

“…”

“NINES? YOU THERE? FUCK! I MEAN IT! I’M-”

“Where are you?”

“OUT! ANYWAY, I’M SORRY! GONNA HANG UP NOW SO TOMORROW ME DON’T KILL ME.”

Nines said something to that, but Gavin was already pressing the end call button. There, he felt better now. He’d said sorry and Nines would be cool with it because _he_ was cool. Gavin beamed into space and sauntered back onto the dance floor without a care in the world. He quickly found a new dance partner, a tall man with thick lips and long, blond hair. Wait, was it a man? Ah well, Gavin didn’t give a shit either way.

The night went on, Gavin bought himself a few more drinks, ignoring everyone and anyone who offered to buy him one. He found Tina again, then lost her again when he wandered up to the top dance floor. It was there that Nines found him.

Old school music was belting out around him. The crowd was thicker here, people had to shove their way through it, holding hands so they wouldn’t be separated and forming long daisy chains of tripping, giggling party goers. Gavin danced in the centre, tired but enjoying himself as he semi-viciously defended his space from encroachers with an odd dance that consisted of swinging his arms in a circle and jutting out his elbows. A hand grabbed his arm as he swung it out, turning it and using the momentum to spin Gavin around. Gavin wobbled at the sharp motion, smile turning down to a scowl as he readied himself to-

“Found you.”

The half scowl was washed away in an instant, a face splitting grin taking its place.

“Nines!” Gavin happily roared, throwing himself forward and wrapping his arms around him. Nines took a step back, his hands hesitantly coming up to mimic the hug before stopping halfway. He gently pried Gavin off, holding him still with his hands placed on his shoulders.

“What are you doing here?!” Gavin beamed up at him, swaying slightly even under Nines’s steadying grip. He looked Nines up and down. He was wearing new clothes, having finally changed out of the ones he’d been wearing the last two days. The dark blue turtleneck really suited him. It was a shame he wasn’t wearing the leather pants with them. Still, he looked good.

“-rack your phone. I’m sorry, I know it’s not appropriate, but I was worri-”

“You look good, Nines!” Gavin shouted, interrupting whatever Nines was saying. “Hey! You wanna dance?”

Nines didn’t say anything for a moment. His brow was scrunched up, a mixture of confusion and frustration.

“You’re drunk, Gavin.”

“Yeah!” Gavin nodded, having finally clued into that little fact a half-hour ago. “That’s what people are in clubs!”

Nines shook his head, eyes scanning over Gavin and frown deepening on his face.

“You should go home and eat something. You’re alcohol levels-”

“One dance, Nines! One dance and I’ll go home. One dance and I’ll do _whatever_ you want. C’mon, wanna teach you!”

Gavin moved as he said that, fingers trailing along Nines’s arms and up to his hands, slowly guiding them from Gavin’s shoulders to his hips. Nines didn’t say anything. His eyes were wide, and his LED was circling both blue and yellow. Gavin toothily grinned up at him, eyes crinkling and cheeks aching. Nines’s grip tightened.

“…Alright.”

Gavin didn’t hear the words, but he saw the jerky nod and his grin grew wolfish. The music changed as Gavin moved closer, looping his arms over Nines’s neck and lacing his fingers together.

‘ ** _She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes._** ’

Nines’s grip grew firmer and Gavin gently pushed him back, guiding his steps. 

‘ ** _Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect_**.’

Gavin pulled him forward again, hands drifting to his sides, to his hips, keeping the slither of space between them as small as possible as he rocked back on his heals, moving with the beat of the music.

‘ ** _And all the boys, they were saying they were into it._** ’

“This is different to how you were dancing before,” Nines murmured, breath tickling across Gavin’s lips.

‘ ** _Such a pretty face, on a pretty neck_**.’

“You laugh different with _me_. I dance different with _you_ ,” Gavin returned, eyes fixed on Nines’s lips, his hips rolling under Nines’s hands, matching the beat.

‘ ** _She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it, but I'm into it_**.’

Nines didn’t say anything to that. He was frowning, his LED a bright yellow as he matched Gavin’s movements.

‘ ** _I'm kind of into it_**.’

Gavin lifted his arms back around Nines’s neck, his shirt pulling up with the movement. He shivered as Nines’s thumbs ghosted across his slither of bare skin above his hips.

‘ ** _It's getting crazy. I think I'm losing it; I think I'm losing it.’_**

The space between them was gone. Gavin’s chest was plastered to Nines’s, their legs entwined. They were still moving but it was slower now, the motions completely out of time with the music. To Gavin, the song had faded away. He was too busy staring at Nines’s lips. He could kiss him right now. He was close enough, he wouldn’t miss. He could feel if those lips were as warm as his hands, if Nines’s tongue would burn against his. Then he would know for sure. He’d know if Nines wanted this, wanted him… Yeah, Gavin could kiss him now. His smile, which had fallen slack and serious with these thoughts, grew larger. Nines’s eyes flickered to it then back to his lidded eyes as Gavin gently pulled him down, head tilting for a better angle and-

Gavin was jerked backwards. Things blurred. Tina was there, staring at him with wide eyes and pursed lips.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Why is Nines here?”

Nines said something to that, but Gavin couldn’t hear it, he was too busy trying to get his head straight, to see clearly as the world span and blurred around him.

“Jesus Gavin, how much did you drink?”

“No- not much,” Gavin returned but Tina wasn’t listening. She had grabbed Gavin by the arm and was frogmarching him away from the dance floor.

“You owe me for this,” muttered Tina before saying, in a much louder voice. “Hey! Thanks for looking after him for me Nines, but I’ve got it from here. No seriously, I don’t need help. Gavin just gets like this sometimes. You should see him on rum.”

“I had rum!”

“Oh god.”

“And tequila!”

“Gavin, you’re such a mess,” Tina moaned, shifting her arm around him to get a better grip.

“Hey, wait, where’s Nines?”

“I’m here, Gavin,” came Nines’s voice from his left, Gavin looked around and saw him holding his other arm, helping him down the steps.

“Hey,” Gavin smiled. “I’ve got something important to say.”

“Which can wait until tomorrow!” Tina quickly interrupted. “You can call him once you’re over your hangover.”

Oh. Right. The hangover. Tomorrow Gavin was gonna hate him… ah well!

“Why not now? It’s important!”

“Oh, hey, there’s the exit!” Tina exclaimed, yanking a stumbling Gavin down the last few steps and out of the doors. “Nines it’s fine now, you go on home. I’ve got him. _Yes_ , I’m sure. No really, go. I’ll text you when I get him settled.”

Gavin looked around as Tina pulled him away, at Nines stood by the door, staring after them both with wide eyes and thin lips.

“Bye-bye Nines outta tens,” he called, waving jauntily only for Tina to yank him forward again, towards a taxi.

“You owe me Gavin. You owe me so fucking much,” she growled, opening the door and helping him in. Gavin grinned at her as she did so and patted her on the head.

“Yeah I do! You’re so fuckin’ nice Tina.”

“…Ugh. C’mon you doof, let’s get you home.”

 

* * *

 

Gavin woke up with a jolt. The sudden urge to vomit tended to have that effect on him. Tripping over his legs, he slammed onto the floor and half scrambled, half crawled towards his bathroom; whereupon he latched himself to the toilet bowl, holding onto it for dear life, grip tight and white knuckled, like he was on a fucking rollercoaster. Oh god. Oh fuck. Why did his mouth taste like a fur boot? Why did his stomach feel like he’d swallowed a bag of box-cutters? And why, oh why, did his head pound he’d been skull-fucked by a sandpaper dildo? The door opened behind him just as he started heaving his guts out.

“You deserve that, you know.”

Gavin groaned into the bowl and slowly lifted a shaking middle finger. He could practically hear Tina rolling her eyes.

“Glad to see you’re back to normal,” she sighed, picking up the mug Gavin kept by the sink and inspecting the contents.

“I feel like boiled shit,” Gavin moaned, looking up for a brief second before abruptly retching and burying his face back in the toilet bowl. Tina hummed noncommittally, turned on the tap and filled up the mug, which had apparently passed her inspection. Gavin groaned then groaned again as Tina passed him the water. What did he even drink last night? Everything felt fucking awful! Like rum and anger poured over nails and shaken with straight up pain.

“…Did I drink rum?”

“Yup, _and_ tequila.”

“ _God_.”

“That’s not even the worst part.”

Gavin pealed open his eyes and blearily blinked up at Tina. She had her arms crossed and didn’t look very impressed with him. Oh god, what had he done?

“Nines,” said Tina, simply and without any inflection.

It took Gavin a moment, eyebrows scrunching and mouth moving wordlessly, then:

“ **FUCK**!”

“Yeah.”

“Did that really-”

“ _Yeah_.”

“ _Fuck_! And you-”

“Totally saved your ass.”

Gavin ran a hand through his hair and slumped down on the bathroom floor. Tina sighed and uncrossed her arms, seemingly satisfied that Gavin had suffered enough.

“I’ll go get you some pain killers. You tidy yourself up, Gav.”

That was easier said than done. The urge to vomit didn’t just magically disappear with one sip of water. He ended up rushing back to the toilet four more times before he finished getting changed and making himself look marginally less shit. By the time Gavin got out, Tina was just finishing munching her way through a large bowl of Gavin’s coco-pops. Exie was perched on her shoulder, purring up a storm and lazily batting at her side-plat. Kit was god knows where, probably asleep. Gavin took in this scene for a grand total of three seconds before proceeding to turn and flop face first onto his couch.

“You well enough for me to tell you off yet?” Asked Tina, through her last mouthful of cereal.

Gavin opened his eyes, huffing loudly into the cushions smothering his face. His sinuses burned with the rush of air. 

“No.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Budge up.”

Gavin heaved out another sigh and pushed himself up into a somewhat seated position (if seated positions included the head being stuck between the knees.)

“Here, I found some dissolvable aspirin. That should help.”

Gavin sat up properly and took the glass, murmuring a soft thanks as Tina sat next to him.

“Did you stay here?” He asked, taking a wincing sip. Yep, just as awful tasting as last time. Gavin took a large gulp.  

“No, I went home. Stole your spare keys so I could check in on you though.”

Gavin nodded.

“Now, are you going to tell me what last night was all about? Because if you’re messing with Nines, I’m going to get angry.”

Tina didn’t sound angry. Her tone was forceful, in a quiet kind of way, but not angry. Gavin drained the rest of the glass, dumped it on the table and glowered down at his hands.

“I… wasn’t messing around.”

“Good. Do you love him?”

“ _Jesus_ , Tina. Don’t pull your punches or anything.”

“I saved your ass last night. I’ll punch whatever way I like.”

There was a pause as both of them considered that statement. Then Gavin let out an ugly snort and Tina buried her face in her hands.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“ _Sure_.”

Tina sighed and leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, staring down at her fingers and lacing them together.

“But seriously? You’ve been really good for Nines, but he still needs a friend. If you’re trying to get in his pants or something-”

“Woah! No, wait- _you think that’s what this is_?!” Gavin hissed, sitting up properly, his humorous smile now but a distant memory.

Tina held her hands up in a ‘I surrender motion’ obviously cottoning on that provoking Gavin wasn’t the way to go about finding the truth.

“No, I _don’t_ think that. I think you’ve fallen head over heels for that guy and hit your head on the way down.”

Yeah, that was a pretty accurate way on putting it. Not that Gavin was admitting it. He looked away, his previous burst of fury melting back into his bad decisions induced hungover misery.

“Gavin, I know you like him, but you’ve got to be careful. What happens if it goes wrong? What if you argue or find out he’s just not interested, or that _you’re_ not interested? I mean he saved your life. Don’t you think that’s affecting you?”

“I don’t like him cause of that,” the words hissed through his teeth, like the first trickle of water from a breaking damn. “I- he-”

The damn broke.

“He’s just too fucking nice for his own fucking good! I mean, he helped me fix myself up cause he _wanted_ to. I said I’d help him with all that shit even if he didn’t and _still_ he helped me. And it’s not just that he’s kind. He’s kind to _me_ and he smiles like an idiot and it turns out he’s funny and he wears the charm I got him all the fucking time. And yeah, I like him, a lot. Not because I want in his pants. I don’t even think he’s got the parts for that shit. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. I just… want…” The flood of words cut off, he looked up and Tina was staring at him with what only could be described as a gobsmacked expression. Gavin looked away.

“So yeah, I’m, uh, definitely ‘interested’. I think he is too… maybe.”

Tina didn’t respond straight away. It took her a few moments to pick her jaw off the floor and mentally compose herself before talking.

“…You going to talk to him about this?”

“No.”

“ _Gavin_.”

“No, I won’t. Not til I’m sure.”

Tina sighed but didn’t argue.

“I don’t want to mess this up, T. I _won’t_ hurt him.”

“Yeah you will, Gavin. And he’ll hurt you too. Remember that and you guys might get through this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (By ‘this’ Tina means Gavin’s tendency to self-cockblock)
> 
> Next time Nines takes the lead in:  
> The Final.


	20. The Final

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it all comes to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER!  
> Can't believe this fic is done. I've been going over the plot and editing so much for months now. It's been about 9 months since the concept first came to me and I'm so glad I put my ideas to words. Thank you so much to all the fantastic people who have read this, given kudos and have written some truly amazing comments :) I really *really* appreciate you all and I hope you enjoy this ending xxxxxxxxx

* * *

 

**SCAN INITIALISING…**

**SYNC IN PROGRESS... 100%**

**SYNC DONE**

**COLLECTING DATA... 100%**

**PROCESSING DATA... 100%**

**…**

**REED, GAVIN.**

**Born: 07/10/2002. Detective, DPD.**

**Criminal record: none.**

Nines blinked and shut down the small window of information, while keeping the profile photograph up. He frowned softly as he compared and contrasted it against Gavin’s current appearance, endeavouring to identify the physical indicators of what was ailing Gavin as of late.

The shadows under Gavin’s eyes were much more prominent compared to the photo, although perhaps less so than they had been a week ago when Gavin was still suffering the aftereffects of copious alcohol consumption. He consistently seemed exhausted, somewhat emotionally unbalanced, and, in addition to this, Nines had also noticed multiple symptoms of anxiety: frequent heart rate spikes, a difficulty maintaining concentration and a slight loss of weight. The later was strange as Gavin hadn’t changed his eating or exercise habits as far as Nines had observed. But, despite this, the Gavin Reed in the photograph somehow looked less… appealing than the Gavin sat across the bullpen. The Gavin there smiled more and looked, to put it simply, _happier_. Case and point: the faint, sarcastic smile Gavin was giving him right now. He’d caught Nines staring again.

Nines felt his analysis stutter and fade out. He wondered if he could go talk to Gavin again, although he already had three times in the morning and twice in the afternoon. His favourite of those conversations had to have been the first: the greeting in the car park. Nines had, as usual, carefully timed his arrival to coincide with Gavin’s. Today there had been no inconsistencies with Nines’s preconstructions, and he was able to speak with Gavin for a full thirty-two seconds longer than normal.

Looking down at his hands, so as to not disturb Gavin by staring for too long, Nines smiled as he recalled Gavin’s greeting and the wide grin he had given him. He glanced up again and this time it was Gavin who was staring. Nines’s smile widened and Gavin turned an interesting shade of red before looking away, pulling out his phone and becoming wholly invested in typing something out. Odd. But Gavin _had_ been acting oddly lately. It wasn’t the bad kind of odd by no means, but it also wasn’t normal for him. Much like today, he’d been smiling at Nines a lot, eyes intent on him, predominantly on Nines’s face but also occasionally on other parts of his body. Gavin had also been showing signs of discomfort around Nines, again with the elevated heart rate and increased rate of perspiration, but continued to seek Nines’s company despite this.

Then there had been that night in the club and the ‘dancing’. Even thinking about it made Nines feel odd. Gavin seemed determined to forget all about it after his red faced and embarrassed apology the day after. This was a shame. Nines had been hoping to ask him what he meant by:

“ _You laugh different with me. I dance different with you.”_

And whether it was common for dancers to stare at their partners lips like that. He highly doubted this, but he’d made mistakes in somewhat similar situations before, misreading social cues to disastrous outcomes. Nines did not want to make a mistake here. He needed to collect more data. Besides, Gavin had been intoxicated at the time. It was not fair to make judgements based on that night. Hence Nines’s increasing frequency of scans and observations. It was vitally important that he figured out what was happening. Gavin was his friend (he said so himself) and Nines wouldn’t let _anything_ ruin that.

His strange thoughts were put on hold for a moment as he noticed someone approaching in his peripheral vision, arms swinging and small smile on their lips.

“Good afternoon, Tina,” Nines said, turning away from the computer, where he had hastily brought up several half-finished work documents to make it look like he’d been working and not staring at Gavin. Again.

“Hey Nines, looks like you’ve been working hard,” Tina smiled, not even glancing at the computer. “Want to join me for a break?”

Two weeks, five days and 6.56 hours ago, Gavin and Nines had discussed when to say yes and when to say no to certain questions in social situations. It turned out that such things linked very easily with the lessons on lying. If it wasn’t a superior or someone Nines cared about, he could say ‘ _whatever the hell you like as long as you don’t get punched_ ’. Otherwise, Nines was supposed to either think of a highly plausible reason not to concede, possibly risking offence if it was not accepted, or lie. Nines decided to lie.

“Yes, I would.”

It wasn’t that he disliked Tina, far from it in fact. She was generally kind and pleasant to be around, had interesting topics of conversation and had taken to helping Nines with a number of things. But over the last week or so she had also gotten into a strange habit of seeking him out and asking _questions_. It always started the same way- 

“So, how’s your day going?”

-with small talk-

“It’s going well, thank you. How about yourself?”

-which would usually span two or three minutes, unless something truly engaged her-

“Connor’s having you round for dinner tonight? But I thought androids don’t- oh, it’s at Hank’s isn’t it? That explains it.”

-And then, inevitably, the conversation would turn towards Gavin.

“So… Gavin.”

Today was not one of her more skilled segues.

“You, um, been doing much with him lately?”

“We played one of his video games and went to the cinema yesterday,” Nines divulged with a soft smile. “We saw ‘Raken two’. The experience was interesting, but I didn’t like the film much. Gavin said that was fine; that I should choose next time.”

Tina smiled warmly, at Nines sudden enthusiasm or Gavin’s paraphrased words, Nines did not know.

“You two are good friends.”

“Yes.”

Tina’s smile faded away and she looked down at her cup of coffee, fingernails softly chinking against the ceramic. “Uh, but is that all he is? I mean, is he _just_ a friend to you?”

This was the part Nines did not like. Tina was being much less subtle about it today, but the nature of these questions had consistently been concerning and uncomfortable.

“Gavin is my friend,” Nines stated in a carefully calm tone, before looking away. “He told me so himself.”

He didn’t mean for his voice to go quiet there, just like he didn’t mean for a small smile to creep up on his face. Tying the physical indicators that Gavin had taught him to his corresponding emotional processes had the benefit of aiding social interactions but did at times become inconvenient when he wished to keep a more neutral façade. He glanced back at Tina, hoping she hadn’t noticed, but it was clear that she had. Her expression had gone similarly soft and affectionate before she abruptly blinked and shook her head, going back to business mode. Apparently, it was not only Nines who sometimes lost control of his facial features. This consoled him slightly. Tina’s next words did not:

“Yes, but what if you were more than friends?”  

Before Gavin entered his life, for his entire existence, Nines had never had a friend. When he had activated, he had the command to deactivate Connor already preloaded into his processors. There had been no one to debrief him: the handlers had been fired, Amanda had been deleted from the Cyberlife systems and there had been no other androids of his series around. He had been alone and it hadn’t mattered. When the mission was forcibly purged from his system, it had not mattered then either. He was too busy trying to work out what his role was in this new world and what his overall purpose was to be. It was only when the dust started to settle and that he found employment in the Eighth, that he realised no one talked to him. Well, no, they talked to him, but no one talked _with_ him. No one smiled at him like they did with others, no one made kind jokes and laughed like they did with everybody else. _It wasn’t fair._ His attempts at rectifying this, at improving his relations with others, resulted only in increased hostilities and the realisation that something was… wrong with how he interacted with others. A fresh start at the precinct his predecessor worked at had seemed a good idea at the time, but quickly spiralled into an almost equally unpleasant experience. Then came Gavin.

At first, he was like the others, albeit quieter and less antagonistic, and so Nines hadn’t spared him much thought beyond cataloguing and observing his actions as he did with all his colleagues.  Then, after a spur of the moment decision (which Nines was now profoundly glad he took), events worked in Nines’s favour in ways he could never have imagined. Gavin talked to him and listened when he talked back. Gavin smiled at Nines and appreciated the smiles Nines gave in return. Gavin laughed with Nines, joked with Nines and Gavin was friends with Nines. _He said so himself._ What else could Nines ask for?

“What else could we be?” Nines asked, genuinely confused.

Tina put down her cup and stared into space, fingers tapping on the cardboard rim, seemingly at a loss of what to say.

“ _Oh boy_. Um, well, you two could be something more, something different.”

Something different… Nines didn’t _want_ to be something different. He wanted what he had right now. He liked going places with Gavin, he liked spending time at Gavin’s flat watching him watch TV or playing Gavin games, pressed up against his side. He liked seeing Gavin play with his cats and how Gavin tried to stifle his swearing around him and how he ruffled his hair and patted his shoulder and grinned at him and- Nines didn’t want any of that to change. Did Tina want that? Why would she want that?

Behind them, within the human hearing range, Nines could hear a familiar step approaching at a quick pace. Gavin had seemingly heard Tina’s last statement and was rushing towards them. Nines’s LED flashed red. No, he couldn’t let Gavin misunderstand this. He wouldn’t let Gavin take a small snippet of this awful conversation and think that Nines didn’t want to be his friend. _That could not happen._ Nines spoke, voice firm and suddenly lacking any of the warmth he had previously cultivated towards Tina, turning it cold and cutting.

“Gavin and I are _friends,_ nothing ‘different’ and nothing ‘more’. I wish to keep it that way.”

The steps behind him slowed and stopped. Tina’s complexion paled and her eyes grew wide, flicking from Nines to behind him. She looked like she was in shock, her mouth falling open and her eyes growing pained. Nines frowned, confused by the change, and turned to face Gavin. But Gavin was no longer standing there, he had turned around and was walking back to his desk, movements slow and uncoordinated and his shoulders held high and tense.

“I-” Tina started to talk before cutting herself off. “I’ve gotta go. Uh, I’m sorry.”

And off she went, leaving her unfinished coffee behind as she half walked, half ran after Gavin, who had taken one look at her before abruptly picking up his stuff and stalking off to clock out early. He didn’t look back at Nines even once.

Nines stood there, rooted to the spot as he watched them disappear. He frowned. Something felt wrong.  

 

* * *

 

That feeling of wrongness followed him for the rest of the day. Nines was glad he hadn’t been given any active cases as he would have undoubtedly made a mistake while preoccupied reconstructing his conversation with Tina, fruitlessly searching for clues towards her bizarre reaction and Gavin’s abrupt departure.

Even after he left work, as he was driven away by a smiling Connor and a gruffly accepting Hank Anderson, his thoughts still circled. Luckily, Nines had one of the most advanced processors known to man and so he was able to multitask in his socialising with only a little difficulty. So far, said socialising had consisted of Connor asking after his day and his cases, of Nines doing the same in return, and the introduction of The Dog. Connor has previously mentioned the dog and Nines had been curious to meet it, only having interacted with one other before, and otherwise seeing them only at a distance. As soon as they entered Anderson’s house, the creature had shuffled up and sniffed curiously at him. Nines wasn’t sure what to think of the dog. It was certainly very… wet. Connor and Hank seemed very fond of it though so he did his best to get on, holding out his hand for it to sniff the way Exie and Kit liked, then slowly but firmly petting it on the head. Anderson watched the entire interaction with a quiet, scrutinising expression, before nodding to himself and taking a seat on the armchair. Nines seemed to have past some unspoken test, because after that point, Anderson started talking to him in earnest.

“You can be rougher than that, y’know. Sumo’s not made of glass.”

Nines looked up from where he was knelt by the dog and gave a sheepish smile.

“I know. I am simply unused to petting dogs and would rather err on the side of caution than put too much strength in and hurt it.”

Anderson shrugged, the expression on his face somewhat approving, and Nines looked back down. There were a few minutes of silence, only broken by the sound of Anderson drinking and the clatter of cooking utensils coming from the kitchen.

“Not much of a dog person, are you?” He said, taking another sip of the non-alcoholic beer Connor had handed him earlier and pulling a face.

“I haven’t met many dogs before, beyond the one who tried to maul me when I was arresting its owner,” Nines explained, still stroking the creature.

“Christ, yeah, that makes sense then.”

“Your dog is much nicer.”

Anderson seemed to find that funny for some reason. Nines considered this then smiled, belatedly recognising that the understatement of that sentence could be seen as amusing. He didn’t get a chance to follow this up with a proper _intentional_ joke as, at that point, Connor came back in with a plate of spaghetti for Hank. Sumo stared mournfully up at Connor as he came close before giving a heavy huff and plodding away. Anderson laughed again, louder this time and Connor gave him an irritated look before trying to approach the dog, who was pointedly looking anywhere but at Connor.

“Still mad at you huh?” Anderson grinned, stuffing his mouth with pasta until his cheeks bulged, in a move strangely reminiscent of Gavin. Nines quickly pushed that comparison into the deepest depths of his processor and took a seat on the sofa.

“I was not aware that dogs could hold grudges for so long,” Connor sighed before straightening up and coming back to sit next to Nines. He turned to face him and explained: “I volunteer at an animal rescue centre on a weekly basis. This week they have had a shortage of staff and I have been spending more time helping, which unfortunately led to me having less time to visit Hank and Sumo.”

“Understandable,” Nines nodded, mentally siding with the dog. The fact that Connor smelt like other dogs probably didn’t endear him to the canine either. “Is volunteering your hobby?”

Connor beamed, obviously pleased that he was familiar with this concept. Nines fought down a frown. It _was_ nice to receive such positive responses from Connor, as an improving relationship with him had been on Nines’s self-imposed main directives from the moment he first became deviant. But the positive reinforcement over more innocuous social niceties lead Nines to believe that Connor thought him more naïve than he was. He was starting to regret telling Connor about his disabled social modules. Nines didn’t say any of this however, simply nodding and listening as Connor answered his question.

“One of a multitude,” Connor explained enthusiastically. Beside him, Anderson rolled his eyes but didn’t comment, still eating. “I also cook, solve puzzles, go on walks, play the guitar, listen to music and dance.”

Nines’s eyes lit up on the last one, something Connor did not fail to notice.

“Do you dance, Nines?” He asked, head tilted curiously.

“I have once. I would like to do it again.”

“I could teach you if you like.”

“…Perhaps,” Nines returned as diplomatically as possible. He wasn’t _entirely_ sure he wanted to dance with Connor. He had been hoping to convince Gavin to teach him again, although this seemed much less likely to occur as more time passed by. Perhaps sensing Nines’s reluctance to explore that concept further with him, Connor changed the topic.

“You seem familiar with the concept of hobbies, Nines. What is it you do?”

Nines thought about it, staring up at the ceiling and drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. He and Gavin had discussed but never clarified this topic. By definition, a hobby is an activity done regularly in one's leisure time for pleasure. Nines had done a whole range of things in his own free time, but the regularity of those activities was debatable, and most of them he only found pleasurable when in the company of- _oh_. Nines had his answer.

“Gavin Reed,” he said.

Anderson choked on his food. Both Nines and Conner gave him a concerned look at this, but he waved them both of when they stood up to help.

“The fuck d-did you say?” He spluttered out before taking another swing of his drink to wash down the food stuck in his throat.

Slightly bewildered by Anderson’s extreme reaction, Nines glanced at Conner for answers only to find him observing Nines strangely too. Odd, but Nines didn’t see the harm in explaining. The only difficulty arose in the length of his description as simply listing out all the activities he did with Gavin was apparently ‘not enough of an explanation’ to justify ‘how the fuck did _that_ happen?’

There was a long silence when Nines finally finished recounting the past few months.

“… You sure this is the same Gavin we’re talking about? Short, scarred nose, bad temper.”

“Ye-es,” Nines said, drawing out the word in his befuddlement.

“The same Gavin who fucking tried to kill Connor,” Anderson’s voice was slightly louder now. Connor sent him a look and Anderson huffed out a tight breath and settled back into the armchair.

“I never met him during that period of his life. But I believe he has changed his opinions from that time. He would not shoot Connor now.”

“He has seemed to have calmed down the last few months,” Connor agreed, fixing Nines with a contemplative look. “That was your influence, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I believe that his actions are determined by his own choices and I cannot make them for him… I think he has grown kinder though.”

Anderson smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “I’ve known Gavin for years; he’s not a _kind_ person. People don’t change that much.”

“That’s a load of shit,” said Nines, forgetting himself for a second and slipping into more informal tones. He quickly corrected himself when Anderson’s eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. “Apologies, I mean people can change on a day to day basis. Events mould our lives, changing our perspectives and how we interact with others, drastically affecting how people perceive our personalities. The root characteristics of a person may remain but perhaps you do not know what Gavin’s are. It is unlikely he has shared them with you given your mutually antagonist relationship.”

The look Connor was giving Nines was _deeply_ scrutinising now. Anderson let out a low whistle.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have feelings for the guy.”

“Of course I do,” Nines said without missing a beat. “He’s my friend.”

Anderson waved his hand, like he was physically batting the words away, and shook his head.

“No, that’s not it. You sure you’re not _more_ than friends? Those ‘outings’, they make it sound like you’re dating him.”

**_................................................................................................ PROCESSI_ _NG……PROCESSING………_**

**_DEFINE ‘dating’_ **

**_‘Dating: to go out with someone in whom one is romantically or sexually interested.’_ **

**_…DEFINE ‘romantic’_ **

**_‘Romantic: conducive to or characterised by the expression of love.’_ **

Nines shut down the dictionary and simply inputted the relevant words into an online search engine. A flood of information almost threatened to drown his processor. Words like fun, intimacy, affection, touching, love and kissing, all floated in his vision. Words that, with Gavin, he had experienced. All but for the last. ‘ _More than friends_ ’ Hank had said. This was what Tina meant too when he-

…When Nines said he didn’t want to be more than friends… in front of Gavin, who had responded to this by abruptly leaving, clearly upset.

Fingers were clicking in front of Nines’s eyes. Hank was trying to get his attention, somehow looking both pissed off and concerned at the same time.

“Hey! Cra-ap, did I break him? Nines? You in ther- _shit_!”  Hank almost fell over backwards as Nines abruptly stood up.

“I am sorry for that, Hank, Connor. Thank you both for inviting me around but I really must be going. There is something I need to fix.”

 

* * *

 

It was late evening by the time the elevator doors opened to the entrance of Gavin’s flat. The hallway was dark, lit only by the occasional, flickering energy-saver bulb. A far-off window, usually the only source of natural light, was more like a black wall than a pane of glass. The streetlamps outside were broken, and had been for many weeks now, giving the occupants of this tower of flats a naturally dark night and aiding in their sleep. There was no sound to be heard from any of the other tenants but the humming of fridges and the muffled, distant wail of a new-born baby.   

By Nines’s preconstructions, there had been a relatively high probability that Gavin, much like his neighbors, was already asleep. This theory was quickly refuted by the muffled sounds of a conversation within the apartment. One voice came from further within and the other came out closer and clearer, right by the door. It was clearly recognisable as Tina’s. He could hear the rustle of her coat as she put it on and the soft exhale of fatigue coming from her lips.

The door opened and a sighing Tina froze before her face transformed from exhausted to pained as quick as a heartbeat. Quietly, but quickly, she closed the door behind her and turned to Nines with an obviously forced smile. 

“Hey. Nines. Uh, now’s really not the- I mean, Gavin’s not feeling up for company tonig-”

“I figured it out,” interrupted Nines, waving his hands to stop her, not even thinking about tying his actions to his words as he leaned forward with wide, serious eyes. “I know what you meant now. I must talk with Gavin.”

Tina looked at him. Although perhaps looking wasn’t quite the right word for what she did. Her eyes _did_ rest on Nines’s face, that was true. But it was like she was seeing beyond that, through his eyes and two inches behind the artificial construct of his skull. Whatever it was she saw there; it made her pause.

“…Oh,” she said, then she smiled. It was small and cautious, but her eyes glittered with excitement. “Good luck.”

Nines nodded seriously and glanced at the door. Tina followed his gaze but didn’t say another word, simply patting him on the shoulder with a quick nod and slipping past him and into the lift, quietly grinning to herself all the way. The doors of the elevator clicked shut with a soft chime and Nines turned to face the door once more. He didn’t need to take a bracing breath, nor did he need to straighten out his hair or check his clothes for creases. He did so anyway, then nodded to himself and walked in.

Gavin was sat down on the far end of the sofa, legs crossed and head braced in his hands. He stared blankly at his lap.

“Forget something, T?” He asked, voice coming out strained as he continued not to move, shadowed eyes trained on the seam of his jeans.

Nines didn’t say anything. He stared at Gavin’s bowed, messy head, then slowly started to walk towards him. It was only when Nines was stood before him that Gavin seemed to realise something was wrong. He looked away from his lap, to the broad set of feet stood before him, and Nines sensed his heart rate spike. His head snapped up, hands falling loosely by his sides and mouth soundlessly opening and closing as he tried to find words. Nines didn’t give him a chance. He brought one hand to the side of Gavin’s face and knelt down, gently leaning in.  His lips hovered softly over the corner of Gavin’s mouth, faintly brushing against the skin.  

Gavin’s body jolted and tensed beneath him. His breathing hitched. Gavin didn’t say a word, but Nines could feel his eyes on him like they were a physical weight. Drawing back, Nines met that heavy gaze; grey eyes on grey. Neither of them moved. The hushed, humming silence around them grew into a sound of its very own.

…Then, slowly, ever so slowly, as if he wasn’t entirely certain of what it was he was doing, Gavin moved. His feet slipped off the sofa, knees spreading wide, and his head tilted back. His eyes were sharp and intent, but the movements of his body were soft and inviting. Nines took that invitation and leaned in again, lips ghosting across Gavin’s skin to the rough, stubbled corner of his jaw, to the smooth, soft dip of skin below his ear and up to the corners of his exhausted, shadow-lined eyes. Gavin shuddered out a breathy sigh and licked his lips.

“I… I, uh, need you to tell me what this is.”

Nines softly brought his lips to the bridge of Gavin’s nose, gently tracing the scar there, then he pulled back to meet those eyes again.

“I’ve figured it out. You’re my friend.”

Gavin looked away, a soft frown building between his brows but Nines ploughed on regardless, both hands cupping Gavin’s face now and gently turning it back towards him.

“No. Listen to me, Gavin. You _are_ my friend. You told me as much and no one ever… I never had a friend before you and I resigned myself into thinking I never would. Words cannot express how happy I was to be proven wrong.” His fingers trailed across Gavin’s cheeks as he spoke, tracing the hot flush of red seeping across the skin. “I will not give that up, not for anything... But you also fit the definition of other forms of relationships.” He paused there, eyes flickering down from Gavin’s wide eyes to his chapped lips. Nines smiled, broad and toothy, before leaning in close once more.

“Best friend.”

A kiss to the brow, smoothing out the frown lines.

“Companion.”

A kiss to the base of his throat; he could feel Gavin swallow beneath his lips.

“And hopefully… lover.”

His voice was now a whisper on Gavin’s lips, but he did not close that millimetre of distance. Instead he pulled back and met Gavin’s burning, dazed gaze. His bright red face was cradled by Nines’s hands, thumbs softly tracing the outline of his cheek bones.

“I want it all. I want _you_ ,” Nines breathed, lips quirking up as Gavin’s pupils dilated even more and his breathing grew shallower. “If that is acceptable, Gavin? Would you be amenable to this?”

Those words seemed to do something to Gavin, the glazed look in his eyes fading away to be replaced with something verging on incredulous.

The next thing Nines knew, he was flat on his back, carpet tickling at the nape of his neck and Gavin sat on top of him, fingers tangling into Nines’s hair, and lips mashing into his. Nines’s eyes widened then lidded as he pushed back against those lips, marvelling at the way they caught on his, the feeling of stubble grazing at his jaw and the soft, burst of air ghosting across his face every time Gavin broke the hurried kiss to breathe before pushing back in again. 

“Amenable? Acceptable? Jesus. Fuckin’. Christ,” he muttered, punctuating his every word with another kiss. “Only _you_ would say shit like that right now.”

“It’s important to clarify for consen-” Nines started saying, only to find Gavin swallowing his next few words with his lips once again.

Nines smiled into that kiss, causing Gavin to accidentally bring his lips to his teeth and give him a mockingly stern look as a result. He leaned in again, slower this time, lips gently brushing over Nines’s like a whisper before leisurely pressing down. Distracted by the strange tingling sensation of Gavin’s breath tickling across his face, and the addictive warmth of Gavin’s lips pressed against his, it took a moment for Nines to notice Gavin’s hands slide further up, fingers weaving into his hair and guiding his movements. In turn, Nines suddenly remembered his own hands and moved them, encircling Gavin’s shoulders and pulling him in, flush against his chest, much to Gavin’s approval if the deep groan he gave was any indicator.

“Think your lessons are done. I’m not into teacher-student bullshit,” Gavin murmured, voice uneven as he pulled back to catch his breath, running the rough pad of his thumb across Nines’s lips. Gavin stared down at him, head haloed by the ceiling lights, hair a mess, eyes dark and lips wet, and Nines could only mutely nod.

 _Yes. That’s fine_ , Nines decided, gazing up at Gavin, at his growing smile that was twisted with joyful, laughing disbelief, and relishing in the soft pressure of the knees bracketing his stomach and the fingers trailing down his jaw. Nines waited until Gavin’s breathing grew more even before grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt and pulling him down once more. Nines jolted in happy surprise as Gavin quickly recovered from the move, pulled Nines’s lower lip into his mouth and **sucked**.

_That is more than fine._

Besides, Nines could always ask Siri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not making any promises or anything, but am slightly contemplating doing a sequal to this some time in the future called 'Hey Siri, explain how to be in a relationship (and not fuck it up)'. Maybe to get a few little cute scenes of Gavin and Nines being boyfriends or perhaps something a bit longer. I'm going to take a bit of a break from putting stuff up for a while though as I've got a new job coming up and a lot of life things happening. But man do I love this ship and I really want to see what happens to these two doofs next haha.  
> Thanks again to all of you. I really can't get across how much your kind words mean to me and the fact that I have over a thousand kudos on this (!!!!!!!)  
> Hopefully see you again (somewhat) soon xx


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